


Never Miss

by Alouis23



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Action/Adventure, Eventual Romance, F/M, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alouis23/pseuds/Alouis23
Summary: Born and bred in violence, Lila's more accustomed to fist fights rather than kindness and must learn to adjust in the world of Dauntless, as Eric Coulter's sniper. His right hand 'man' so to speak. Tasked with protecting the dauntless leader on missions, the two of them form a unique bond. Follow Lila, as she learns about friendship and love while trying to escape her demons. (Currently undergoing edits. Stand by)





	1. Lila

Her jaw throbbed in pain, as she licked the dried blood off her lips. The skin along her cheek felt raw. She managed a wary grin. No doubt she was a bloody mess, but in the end she had won. She always won.

"This funny to you?"

Eric's voice shook her from her trance. Looking up at him, she noticed his disapproving glare, and her smile faded.

"No," She said.

Grunting in response, he grabbed her chin and turned her bruised face towards the light. She winced, as his fingers skimmed her cheeks.

"Looks like he got a few good hits on you," He said, noting the swelling below her left eye.

Jerking her head away from his hand, she mumbled, "It was a lucky shot. Can I go now?"

"Not until you have a medic look at you."

"I don't want a medic," She grumbled, and his eyes darkened. He was mad, she knew. He always was after seeing her fight. He'd told her before that her place isn't in the ring. That she needed to find a new hobby.

Eric braced his arms on the counter, trapping her against it. He smelled like aftershave and rain and gunpowder. She countered his glare with one of her own. She'd been afraid of him once, but that was a long time ago.

"I don't care what you want," He said. "Since you insist on getting into petty fights-

"They're hardly petty."

"Then I insist you take care of yourself afterwards. No exceptions."

He leaned back then with his arms crossed, probably expecting her to argue.

"Fine," She said simply.

"Fine."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She hated medics. Hated being touched.

"So who'd you beat up this time?" Asked Nolan, as he kneaded her ribs, feeling for anything broken.

Lila forced herself to keep still, wincing whenever he hit a tender area. She tried counting to one-hundred like Eric had told her. Tried to steady her breathing.

"I forgot his name," She answered.

Nolan made a sort of choking sound. She glanced his way and realized he was trying not to laugh but failing miserably. His grin stretched from ear to ear, making him look so much younger than he was.

"Poor bastard," He said. "Probably didn't even see it coming."

She quirked an eyebrow at that, and he chuckled, the sound surprisingly pleasant.

"Am I not intimidating to you?" She asked.

"When you look at me like that, yes." She realized she was glaring and looked away. "But normally, no. Though if we duked it out in the ring, I'm sure I'd say differently."

He poked at a significantly sore area, and she jolted.

"Oh, found a broken one." His touch was gentle, as he probed a bit more. "But I think that's it. Everything else is minor bruising."

He stepped away, so she could pull her shirt down, and reached for something in a nearby drawer. He held up a container of-

"Aloe Vera," He said. "Because I know how much you hate actual medicine."

"I just don't trust it," She mumbled.

"I know." He scooped the green substance onto some gauze and began applying it to her face. Onto the few cuts below her cheek. She would be lying if she said it didn't feel good.

"So your broken rib should heal within three to four weeks," Said Nolan, as he applied the finishing touches of aloe. "Just make sure to keep pressure off it, so no exercising, or anything like that for now. And keep out of the field if possible. I'm sure Eric will throw a fit about that."

Eric seemed to be throwing a lot of fits lately.

"And no more fights." Nolan eyed her with a halfhearted glare. "Let's see how long we can go without seeing each other again. Sound good?"

She mumbled a response under her breath, and he laughed. Something he did so often and so easily. She watched his back as he left the room, shaking his head and smiling no doubt.

Perhaps Nolan wasn't so bad.

She met with Christina and Will for dinner. Having known them for only a few months, Lila was still hesitant around them. Not because they were intimidating or unfriendly, but because they seemed genuinely interested in her as a person, as a potential ally and friend rather than a weapon for them to use. Because that's what she was now. A weapon for Dauntless.

"Does Eric know?" Christina asked.

She and Will always sat next to each other during meals, Lila noticed. She didn't understand it.

Will looked back and forth between the two girls with his mouth full of mashed potatoes. "Know abow whah?" He asked, and Christina poked at Lila with her fork, telling him about the broken rib Nolan found.

"No. I didn't tell him," Lila admitted. "I didn't see any reason to."

She frowned at their worried expressions.

"What?"

"You realize he'll be pissed when he finds out you lied to him, right?"

Lila shrugged, unbothered. "I didn't lie. He just never assumed anything was broken."

And he hadn't. After meeting with Nolan, she went to Eric's office to tell him she'd received medical treatment for her injuries. He had been in the middle of doing paperwork and hadn't asked any questions. Just nodded and told her to stay out of trouble.

"Does it hurt?" Asked Will. "I've never had a broken rib before." Christina rolled her eyes.

"Of course it hurts. It's broken."

The pain was nothing Lila couldn't handle. She'd been trained to withstand worse than that of a broken rib.

"It's fine," She told them.

Christina gave her boyfriend a look, and he dropped the subject entirely.

Lila remained silent through the rest of dinner, content with listening to the couple talk and bicker about their day. Although she still wasn't sure about them, she enjoyed their company. Knew that they were, for the most part, harmless.

Harmless and surprisingly likeable.

After dinner, Lila walked back to Eric's office. She'd been living in Dauntless for eight months now and was still adjusting to her new environment. Back in The City, where she was groomed and trained to be a killer, there were rules about wandering around alone. It was practically prohibited. When you weren't training, fighting, or working with your handler, you were confined to your quarters. Lila often chose to read or paint during her free time in The City.

But books were hard to come by in Dauntless and so was paint, so she knocked on the office door, hoping Eric might have something for her.

"Come in," He said.

Papers and maps covered his large mahogany desk, as did several laptops, Lila noted, as the door closed behind her. Why anyone needed more than one computer was beyond her, but Eric seemed to have an affinity for them.

He looked up at her for the briefest of seconds before turning his attention back to whatever he was working on.

"Need something?" He asked, his tone bored and indifferent.

Lila didn't dare sit. Didn't invite herself to stay and watch him work. She merely stood with her feet planted by the door and said,

"I'm not sure what to do."

Should she go home and… relax? Or should she go to the gym and train some more. It was a Saturday, so technically she had the day off and could do whatever she wanted. Christina and Will invited her out to the bars, but she wasn't interested in drinking or socializing at the moment.

Eric considered her with a blank expression. His chair creaked, as he settled further back into his seat.

"So," He said, "You came here because you were… bored."

She opened her mouth to say something but decided against it.

"We've talked about this before, Lila." Eric stood from his desk then, grabbing random papers and shoving them in his desk. He left the maps out. "You're free to do whatever you want here." He gave her a knowing look.

"Within reason of course," He added.

She thought back to her match in the ring. Following sharpshooting, hand to hand combat was her one of her most notable skills and was something she truly enjoyed. But Eric hated seeing her in the ring, hated watching her fight, and rarely let her participate in the matches. Today had been the exception, but she knew not to push her luck by asking to join another. Plus, she had a broken rib and letting it heal was decidedly more important than kicking the living shit out of someone.

"What did you for fun in The City?" Eric asked. He sat on his desk now with his arms crossed over his broad chest, as he scrutinized her.

"I trained with Hugh." Hugh had been her handler before The City sold her to the factionless.

"For fun?"

She nodded, and Eric sighed, raking a hand through his short hair. He stood up moments later, mumbling something under his breath, and went to grab his jacket.

"Follow me," He ordered.


	2. Eric

The girl was raised to be a killer. She could disassemble and reassemble any type of gun, torture and maim, kill men three times her size, and shoot targets over two thousand miles away. They've been on five missions together, and Eric has yet to see her miss.

"I don't understand," She said, as she squinted at the flat screen TV mounted on the wall. In her hands was an XBOX controller, though one would think it was a grenade based on how she was holding it. Eric concealed his amusement with a hard glare, as he explained the ins and outs of first person shooter games.

"It's simple," He said. "Just kill the bad guys. With this." He poked at the controller.

"This is not a gun," She said matter-of-factly.

"No shit Sherlock."

"Who's Sherlock?"

Eric groaned. Perhaps teaching her how to play Halo was not the best idea after all. He'd thought it be amusing, which it was, but it was already giving him a headache.

"Just un-pause the game." She did. "Now use the stick to move around and the button under your thumb to shoot."

"What am I shooting?"

"Anything trying to kill you. Just like real life."

After dying ten times, she said,

"This is nothing like real life."

He smirked at that, but nonetheless pushed her to keep trying. The man on the screen crouched behind a barricade in an attempt to avoid enemy fire. With enemies flanking him, he had no other choice but to make a run for it.

Lila huffed in exasperation, as the screen faded to black for the sixth time.

"I don't like this," She mumbled.

Standing up from the couch, Eric made his way over to the kitchen. His apartment was small yet practical. His kitchen had a stainless steel stove and a decent sized refrigerator along with a fair amount of counter space. Not that he needed much space, since he rarely cooked. The living room was simple as well. One couch, one coffee table, one TV was all he needed. And then the living room led to his bedroom, which was probably the most spacious room in the apartment, containing one queen-size bed and lined with a couple of bookshelves.

Lila cursed under her breath, as her avatar died again. Eric would've stood there for hours, captivated by the image of her doing something so mundane, but his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Four.

"Something's come up," He said.

Eric rolled his eyes in spite of himself. "And?"

"Viktor's here."

Shit.

Hanging up the phone, Eric grabbed his apartment keys and made his way to the door. Lila looked over her shoulder, letting her avatar die.

"What happened?"

Nothing, he wanted to say. But that would only make her ask more questions, so he said,

"Just stay put. I'll be back later."

Ignoring the questioning look in her eyes, he slammed the apartment door shut

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Viktor Petrov, with his dark beady eyes, his pointed nose, and high cheekbones, looked more like a crow than a man. A crow dressed in a bone colored suit and with a penchant for fine frilly things.

"Ah, Eric," He exclaimed, as the dauntless leader marched through the door. "How great of you to join us."

Eric glanced at Four, cursing him for inviting the crow into the control room. The control room of all places. He should've pushed him into the chasm when he had the chance.

Petrov looked at the two dauntless leaders expectantly. "Well? Where is she?"

Eric quirked a pierced brow. "Who?"

"He's looking for Lila," Answered Four, his voice deep and grim.

"Ah yes," Petrov said, smiling. "Lila. The pretty assassin girl. The one you bought."

"We didn't buy anyone from you," Said Four. "We found Lila among the Factionless. Chained to the floor and starving."

Eric winced at the memory.

"Oh right!" Said Petrov, snapping his fingers. "Now I remember." His grin melted into a scowl.

"You stole her."

Now it was Eric's turn to scowl. Petrov talked about the girl as if she were property to be bought and sold. Nothing more than an instrument to carry out his plans. No wonder she cringed whenever his name was mentioned.

"We did no such thing." Eric said softly.

But the crow continued. "My men in The City sold her to some Factionless units who needed a reliable weapon. We offered our price, and they accepted it. The deal was done." He clicked his tongue. Once. Twice.

"Your Dauntless soldiers took something that did not belong to them," He added. "Something that the Factionless are going to want back. Sooner or later their troops are going to come marching through your doors. Whatever treaties you've made, whatever agreements you have for peace will be null and void. And then all hell will break loose. All because you refuse to give that girl back."

"The girl doesn't belong to anyone," Said Four. "Least of all you."

Petrov wagged his finger at him, as if scolding little boy.

"You're getting yourself involved in something much bigger than yourself, Four. Much bigger than all of us."

"Is that all?" Eric asked, feigning boredom. "Or do you have other speeches planned?"

Petrov sighed. "I've given you eight months. Now is your last chance. Return her to me, so that I may return her to the Factionless. Or… Reap the consequences."

"Never," Said Four and Eric in unison.

"You can tell your friends in The City," Said Four, "To go fuck themselves."

Viktor Petrov's laugh boiled the blood in Eric's veins. His grin exposed his jagged canines and his silver tooth.

"Fine, fine. I can see when I'm beat," He joked. He turned on his heel to leave, and the dauntless guard by the door stiffened.

"Just remember," He added lowly, "That I warned you."

And with that the Crow flew off.

After Petrov left the grounds for good, the two dauntless leaders spent the next hour in a near screaming match.

"What the hell were you thinking inviting him in here?"

"He invited himself in. My hands were tide."

"Bullshit! You should've shot him."

"And risk starting a mutiny?"

"Fuck mutinies!"

"Eric!"

"What?!"

He wanted to bash his fists into the wall. Into Four for being an idiot. Into Petrov's conniving, snake like, face.

"We need to be reasonable about this," Said Four slowly. "We have to consider the consequences for keeping her here."

"I don't care about the consequences."

"You should."

"The girl stays," Eric said. "End of story."

He wasn't sure why, but the thought of handing Lila back to The City, back to Viktor and Hugh, was nauseating.

"I'm not saying we should hand her over," Assured Four. "I'm just saying we need to be cautious about how we handle things from here on out."

Eric nodded absentmindedly. "I know."

Four, suddenly aware of the time, said, "I'll try and get a hold of Max tomorrow. See what he thinks, but right now have to be somewhere." He paused. "Maybe you should tell Lila about-

"No."

Nothing had happened. Nothing would happen. So there was no need to bring this up with her.

Four didn't push the subject. "I'll see you tomorrow then." He hovered in the doorway for a moment and left.

Eric studied the monitors along the wall for the briefest of moments. Scanning for signs of Petrov's men.

Then he remembered, he'd left Lila in his apartment.


	3. Lila

When Eric returned around eleven, he was fuming. The apartment door slammed with so much ferocity that the entire room shook, and the keys Eric whipped across the counter nearly embedded themselves into the wall. She watched as he marched into his room to rip off his jacket and as he stormed into the kitchen to get a glass of water. The man did everything with so much intensity that even drinking water appeared intense.

His eyes caught hers, and his expression darkened. He set the glass down slowly.

"What?"

"Nothing," She choked.

The man was like a whirlwind going from one extreme to the other. She thought back to when they'd first met and how soft his voice had been when he'd approached her. It was like he had two personalities constantly struggling for control inside of him. One was gentle and soothing. The other, violent and livid. And she didn't know how to deal with either one of them it seemed.

"You're staring," He said.

She looked away quickly and shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She wasn't sure how long she had played that wretched videogame, but her mind felt foggy and numb. With her gaze fixed on the floor, she didn't hear Eric approach and flinched when sat beside her. People were always too close. She needed space, so she gave herself a few more inches and dared a glance in his direction.

His eyes were still hard, but his tone had softened. "Stay in Dauntless. I know that Erudite offered you a position there, but..."

The request was startling, and she fumbled for a response, but before she could say anything, he added,

"Just promise me you won't leave the compound unnecessarily."

She hadn't planned to leave. At least not anytime soon. Dauntless wasn't exactly her home, but the mere thought of going back to the Factionless, back to that hole they'd kept her in, made her stomach turn. She had been treated like a dog before. What made Eric think she wanted to return to that? And all she knew of Erudite were the stories Hugh had told her when she was a little girl.

"Promise me."

Ignoring the burgeoning questions in her head, she said,

"I promise." Because what else was she to do?

He loosened a breath and raked a hand through his hair. The action somehow familiar and Eric-like.

"I didn't mean to be gone for so long," He said, almost to himself. "Had I known how long it'd take to deal with Four, I would've just sent you home." Perhaps she would leave now then.

Still, she was curious. "Has something happened?" She asked.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," He said, as he stood and sauntered away. Before she knew it, he was in his room, slamming the door.

Message received.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day felt like any other Sunday. Boring and lifeless. Lila hated weekends, since there was never anything to do. And on Sundays, Eric was always busy with paperwork, so he was no help. Normally she'd train, but she wanted time to heal.

Well, she did at first.

After an hour of wandering in the halls, she found herself in the training room and came to the inevitable conclusion that a minor session with the punching bag never hurt anyone.

At seven in the morning, she started with a few basic drills. One punch with the right. One punch with the left. Roundhouse. One punch with the left. Two punches with the right. Roundhouse. Two punches with the left. Three punches with the right. Roundhouse.

The side of her body throbbed, but there were times in The City when she had trained with even worse pain. A broken hand for instance. So she kept punching, kept kicking, until her breathing became labored. Until she couldn't see past the sweat.

She sent the bag swinging with a myriad of high and low kicks, each more powerful than the last. Wiping her bangs from her eyes and ignoring the blade lodged in her ribs, she inhaled and exhaled.

And began punching the bag in earnest.

She struck with her forearms first, following up with her elbows, and then continuing with her knees. Over and over and over again until the coarse material of the bag burned her skin.

"Harder," She imagined Hugh saying. "Stop thinking so much."

One hook-kick. Two roundhouses. Ten punches. Repeat.

"Keep going." Said the handler in her head. She could practically feel his emerald eyes staring her down, rooting her place, as her shin collided with the bag.

Punch then kick. Strike without a second thought.

"Good."

Strike with the elbow then with the knee.

"Again."

Strike with the forearm. Strike with the elbow. Strike with the forearm again. Load the gun and shoot.

"You'll have to be faster than that, Lila. Come on. Knock me off my feet."

Kill them all. Every last one of them. Even the children. Do as they say.

"I need more power in those punches." Oh, she'd show him power.

Ten punches. Eight kicks. Add in another roundhouse for good measure.

"Remember to breathe."

She couldn't.

"Lila, darling. Just breathe."

One punch. One kick. Three with the left hand, four with the right. Two with the right foot, six with the left. Repeat.

"You're losing your rhythm. Slow down."

But she couldn't.

One strike with the left elbow. Two strikes with the right forearm. One left kick. Again and again and again.

"Lila."

Two roundhouses. One hook-kick. Eight punches. Repeat. Kick then punch. Strike without a second thought. Cut them down. Strike with the knee then with the elbow. Ten punches. Ten kicks. Add a second hook-kick. Load the gun.

"Lila, darling."

If The City insisted on tearing her apart, then so be it. She'd aid them in their efforts.

"Lila!"

The final kick sent a jolt of pain throughout her entire body.

Lila reeled back, gripping her side with a groan. Pulling up her shirt, she noticed that the swelling and bruising along her rib cage had worsened considerably. Her first instinct was hide the injury and ignore it, but breathing was near impossible. Way more difficult than it had been. Perhaps she'd pushed herself too far this time. She'd have to have someone check to be sure.

Forcing her legs to move, she gathered her things and trekked out of the training room. Going to Eric would be suicide, so she trudged through the halls, past Eric's office and past the dorms, until she reached the first aid room. All while struggling to breathe.

She found Nolan hunched over a stack of files on his desk, twirling a bright red pen in his fingers. Whatever he was reading seemed important, so she halted back a few steps and watched as he rummaged through his papers, occasionally marking something with his pen.

Standing by the door awkwardly, she couldn't help but notice his slightly altered appearance. His dark russet hair, which he normally left a disheveled mess, was combed neatly for once, as if someone had finally lectured him about his unruliness. He'd shaved his morning stubble as well. The twenty-nine year-old man suddenly looked twenty.

With his eyes still fixed on his papers, he said, "You're drooling." He smiled up at her. "See something you like?"

Lila knew Nolan liked to tease. It's all he ever did, but nonetheless, she crossed her arms and scowled, even when her face felt warm.

"You sure do know how to crush a man's dream," He added lightly, as he rolled his chair closer to her. "So what's up? You look tired."

Before she could answer, he said,

"You've been working out." It wasn't a compliment. He said it as a fact and frowned. "Pretty intensely, I'm assuming."

"Yes, and now it's hard to breathe." She hated admitting it.

The medic sighed, instructing her to roll up her tank top, so he could have a better look. He examined the bruising along her ribs without touching her and merely groaned, as he stood and readied his stethoscope. He motioned for her to turn around.

"Take a deep breath." The coolness of the device made her jolt. "And again." His breath caressed the back of her neck, and she squirmed. "One more."

Ignoring the pain, she inhaled and exhaled deeply. Satisfied with what he heard, Nolan sat back down.

"I thought I told you no exercising." The light in his eyes had died. "You have a broken rib, Lila, and if you don't let it heal, you could get an infection by not breathing properly. That or you could puncture a lung."

She offered him a confused stare, as she readjusted her top. Had she punctured a lung?

"On a scale from one to ten, how much does it hurt?"

"I don't need pain medication," She answered.

"Just answer the question."

"Seven." Give or take.

He considered her for a moment before rolling back to his desk and stuffing his files inside a drawer.

"So ten then." He stuck his pen behind his ear. "Or more."

He swiveled in his chair to meet her gaze, and she shrugged. An odd, unfamiliar, silence settled over the room, and she wasn't sure if filling the silence with mumbling would help. Nolan's gaze sharpened.

"This isn't The City." There was no mirth in his voice. None of that usual teasing Lila had grown used to. "This is Dauntless. No one here is asking you to be perfect."

Her eye twitched. "I'm not trying to be perfect."

"Yes you are. Just look at yourself." He gestured to her with a wave of his hand, as if that was enough to explain what he meant.

"You know how to manage your pain, which is fine, but don't disregard it completely. It's what keeps you alive."

"Okay."

Maybe if she pretended to understand, pretended to agree, she'd someday fool herself into believing him.

He sighed once more and said, "Just stop pushing yourself so much. It's a Sunday for God's sake. Most people are either sleeping or masturbating, or going to church. One of the two."

"Masturbating?"

He chuckled, though the sound was empty and lacked conviction. "Never mind, just… Try to relax a little. No exercising. No training. None of that gun flinging nonsense that you normally do."

She quirked an eyebrow.

"Isn't that what your best at?" Some light returned to his eyes. "Just go home and rest. Take a nap for all I care. Let's just hope you're not a sleep walker, or else we'll have a real problem on our hands."

And despite her broken rib, Lila grinned.


	4. Lila

Lila rested beneath the covers of her bed with the medic's words echoing in her mind. She even went so far as to grab the frozen bag of peas in her fridge to ice her injury. Pain still lingered along her side, but the swelling had subsided.

She sighed in spite of herself, relishing in the warmth of her bed. A bed that was nothing compared to the bed she had in The City. With smooth satin sheets and a thick velvet comforter, her king-size bed in The City was opulent and lavish, just like her room, which was decorated with her own paintings and lined with three sandalwood bookshelves. There was even a balcony that overlooked a sparkling blue pond with orange Koi and stone fountains. She vaguely wondered what her room looked like now, if anyone had taken her place, or if the council simply decommissioned it.

She tried to forget about her books, her paints, and those cool nights on the balcony. Tried ignoring the ache in her chest whenever she thought of Hugh. Her home was a harsh place decorated with sweet lies to distract people from the smell of blood and rotting corpses. The City acted as a breeding ground for mindless killers. It was a place where babies were sold by desperate parents for food or capital and where children grew up killing each other, as a way of weaning out the weak. Her life in The City had been a nightmare, but for someone who was never taught to dream, she never thought to fight back.

Lila's makeshift cold pack had melted, and the condensation soaked through her shirt. Standing up, she made her way into the kitchen to put the unfrozen peas back in the fridge. The time on her microwave read 3:35pm. She'd rested for quite a long time, apparently. Having missed breakfast and lunch, she decided to cook up a few eggs. While spraying the pan with cooking spray, the cellphone Eric gave her rang.

She nestled the device between her ear and shoulder, answering with a curt,

"Yes?"

"Oh my God, Lila! Where the fuck have you been all day?" It was Christina. "You never returned my call this morning, and Will and I couldn't find you for lunch."

She cracked the first egg perfectly and then completely smashed the second one.

"I was resting," Lila lied, as she struggled to scoop out the eggshells.

"Highly doubtful, but I'll take it. So what are you doing now?"

"Cooking." The third egg sizzled onto the pan.

"You know how to cook?"

"Yes." Barely.

"Wow. Who knew murder school offered cooking lessons."

"They don't," Responded Lila, as she flipped each egg, causing the pan to hiss with enthusiasm. "I taught myself."

"I was kidding."

"Oh."

Christina went quiet for a moment before shouting,

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you about the party tomorrow. Well it's not really a party. It's more like a small get-together that me and my girlfriends are having."

"Tomorrow's Monday," Said Lila dryly. Monday was hardly a day meant for partying, or get-togethering.

"So? It's nothing huge. We'll probably end up watching a movie or some bullshit. It'll be great."

Was Christina inviting her? Lila wasn't sure, so she said nothing, as she dropped her eggs onto a paper plate and grabbed a fork.

"So… You wanna come?" Apparently it was an invitation. "Come on, it'll be fun. If you're worried about the socializing part, don't worry. I'll do most of the talking… Why don't I come over and teach you how it works."

"Why?" Asked Lila around a mouthful of egg, but the line suddenly went dead and beeped.

Twenty minutes later, long after she'd finished her meal, she heard a knock.

Christina greeted her with a mischievous grin the moment she opened the door. In her hands, she held a basket of colorful hair ties and a brush.

"So," She began, as she invited herself into Lila's apartment, "What we're going to do is have a 'practice girl's night.' It'll give you a rough idea of how stuff like this works."

Lila didn't know what sounded worse. Practice girl's night, or actual girl's night. Before she could protest, the shorter girl had her by the hand and hauled her onto to the couch.

While Christina brushed Lila's hair, she explained,

"Most of my friends like to gossip, which I know is petty, but it's also entertaining. And Eleanor, from Candor, is like me, so you two will be fine." She began weaving Lila's hair into a dark ebony braid. "Besides Eleanor, it'll be me, you, Rose, and Tabitha. Rose is a bitch, so try to avoid her. Unless you want to challenge her in the ring that is." She fastened the braid with a pink band and clapped her hands in excitement. Lila touched the back of her head with her hand, stunned by the intricacy of Christina's work.

"It's not as practical as my bun," She said, but she still liked it.

Hours later, the sun melted into the sky and was replaced by the moon. With Christina, time passed differently. The girl talked endlessly, so much so that Lila never remembered to check her watch when she was around her. It was dinner time before they even realized it, and since they weren't in the mood for Dauntless' dry food, they microwaved whatever Lila had in her freezer for their meal, which included chicken nuggets, strawberries, and of course, peas.

"Did you have friends in The City?" They sat on Lila's unmade bed surrounded by plates of half eaten everything. "Or were there rules about that sort of thing?"

Christina's questioning had been relentless, but for once Lila didn't mind the girl's candidness.

"I never considered anyone my friend." Hugh might've been the only exception. "We all learned to fear each other."

"Why?"

"It's safer that way. The council holds a tournament every month or so to find the weakest link in their ranks." Death matches. "You fight, unarmed, in a ring surrounded by hundreds of spectators, including the council. The match always ends with one person in a body bag. It wouldn't have been smart to get attached."

Christina paled, and Lila bit into her sixth strawberry.

"Making friends wasn't a priority," She mumbled.

Christina huffed. "But who would sign up for that? And why?"

"It all depends on your circumstances. Some people volunteer to escape poverty. Some enroll to shave off their prison time, and some have no choice."

"I take it you had no choice."

Her parents had offered her to The City when she was a baby. They already had three kids on their hands, and they couldn't afford another. Lila, along with a few others, was practically raised by the council.

"No," She said. "I didn't."

She tried gauging Christina's reaction, but she was awful at analyzing expressions other than anger and contempt. Two emotions she always saw in the ring.

"I'm sorry, Lila."

Something about Christina's face, like the faded glow of her eyes, made Lila squirm. She shifted her gaze to a hole in her blanket, hoping to shake off the twisted feeling inside her stomach, but Christina's voice drew her back.

"And here I was thinking, I had it bad." She chuckled softly, which brought color back to her cheeks. "But then again, I was always a drama queen. If anyone should be moping around, it's you."

Lila blanched. The council had always warned her to be wary of others' intentions. Always told her to keep her distance lest she wanted a knife in her back.

But she sat with Christina on a bed, in a room, in an apartment, in a place miles and miles away from The City.

Maybe, just this once, she'd risk the knife.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lila woke with a start when her phone buzzed again.

This time, it wasn't Christina.

"Rise and shine," Said Eric. It was three in the morning. "Time to suit up."


	5. Eric

A few hours ago, Max confirmed that Eric's suspicions of a burgeoning Factionless army had been well deserved. He'd left Eric a simple message in his voicemail, saying,

"My men found at least fifteen crates of AK-47 rifles in one of their warehouses. Plus seven crates worth of ammunition. It's not much, but I'd say it's enough to prove they're up to something. So whatever you're planning, be careful."

Eric's concern wasn't about the Factionless having guns. His main concern was with whoever their supplier was, since he knew they couldn't afford any military grade weapons on their own. He suspected that The City was involved, but to what extent, he wasn't sure. Maybe someday he'd bleed the answers out of the crow, but for now he'd improvise with what little knowledge he had and pray that Max didn't blow his cover while he was in Erudite. Dauntless would have an entirely different problem on their hands if they were caught investigating a conspiracy that they'd kept secret.

Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, he noticed that Lila had finally arrived. She stood in the pit surrounded by a handful of Dauntless soldiers dressed in dark bulletproof vests and equipped with standard Dauntless rifles. The men looked eager and impatient, already hyped up on adrenaline, as they adjusted their gear and prattled amongst themselves.

But Lila stood alone patiently. She wore a jacket similar to his own and had fixed her dark hair into a long braid. Moonlight filtered through the glass panes above the pit and highlighted the soft outlines of her face and figure. Bathed in gentle hues of blue and grey, she looked nothing like the killer he knew she was. If it weren't for the sniper rifle in her hands and the baldric of silver knives she wore, one would assume she was an innocent, raven-haired beauty.

He beckoned her over with a tilt of his head.

"Where's your vest?" He asked, his tone clipped and sharp.

She crossed her arms over her chest, over her baldric, and told him,

"My bruises are still sore, and the vest was too tight." So she did have a pain threshold after all. Still, he wasn't about to risk her getting shot without some form of protection.

"I think you'll manage. Now go put it on," He ordered. She huffed in exasperation but nonetheless turned around and walked away. As she disappeared into the small mass of Dauntless soldiers, two familiar looking men appeared from the crowd and approached him.

One man might as well have been a brick wall. Standing at nearly six foot seven, the barrel-chested gentleman towered over everyone in the room and made carrying a two-hundred pound machine gun look easy. Based on his stature and his weapon of choice, one might assume he was malicious and violent, but Warren was quite the opposite. In fact, out of the two men standing in front of Eric, Warren was the mild tempered one. It was Vince Eric worried about.

The blonde-haired, twenty-something year old man was also tall and muscular, but not in the same vain as his companion. If Warren was a brick wall, then Vince was a black panther constantly on the verge of pouncing. His movements were unhurried, almost lazy, as though he didn't want to appear too eager to fight. He carried himself with the grace and confidence of a man who knew he could kill with lethal precision. He'd equipped himself with two handguns, each attached to the utility belt slung low on his waist, and a sniper rifle, which he held close to his chest.

Vince was a highly proficient marksman who dealt with a variety of firearms, but his specialty was with the sniper rifle. He either worked alone or alongside Warren, since Warren seemed to be the only man he trusted, and together they made a formidable team of two. Highly intelligent and quick on their feet, Vince and Warren were arguably Max's best soldiers. They were the only men Eric had requested to borrow. Partly because of their skill and partly because they didn't balk at the mention of working with Lila.

"You know," Said the blonde with a smirk, "My boss threw a bit of a hissy fit when we left last night. The old man can be a bit touchy when it comes to sharing his things."

"He can have you back once this is over," Said Eric.

"It's no rush really. I just hope for your sake that this is worth it."

"It is," Eric replied, as Four appeared next to him. He, like the rest of his men, wore a bulletproof vest and held a Dauntless rifle. He nodded at the crowd and said to Eric,

"Whenever you're ready."

Let the fun begin.

"Alright, listen up!" Eric's voice reverberated against the steep walls of the pit and the crowd in front of him went silent. "As most of you've probably guessed by now, Factionless has been trying to build an army. A couple days ago, I received Intel suggesting that a convoy of armored trucks were planning on heading towards Amity later today. It's likely that these trucks contain whatever the Factionless need to supply a militia of at least one-thousand men." It wouldn't be a big army, but it would be an army nonetheless.

"Amity's outskirts is the safest place for them to conduct a weapons trade," He said. "There's a good chance that the trucks will use the forests in Amity as coverage to stay hidden. Our mission today is simple. Intercept the drivers before they reach their destination."

"And we will," Four said. "As long as we're discreet." Lila emerged from the crowd once more to stand at Eric's side, and her arm brushed against his. She nodded, and Four continued.

"If we split up, we'll have a better tactical advantage over the drivers. When we commandeer their trucks, we'll be attacking them from both sides. Some of you will be coming with me. The rest will leave with Eric."

Lila's vest looked far too loose. Without thinking, Eric went to adjust the straps, but she flinched and shoved his hands away. He remembered what she'd said about bruises and decidedly let her win this round.

"We leave in an hour."

Once the briefing was over, Four disbanded the group, so that Eric could pull Lila aside. Unbeknownst to her, she would not be coming with him.

"Lila, I want you to meet some friends of mine."

Upon noticing Vince and Warren, she straightened and regarded each of them with an unimpressed frown. Something Eric had never seen any woman do, since most women considered the two Dauntless soldiers to be incredibly handsome. But then again, Lila was not like most women.

Clearing his throat, he explained,

"Vince and Warren are members of Max's unit. They're loaning their services to us for a few days, since Max can't be here himself."

Vince offered her a wolfish grin. And Warren, the more polite and quiet of the two, nodded and said,

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lila." Her expression said otherwise. Completely unfazed by how he dwarfed her in size, she scrutinized him with narrow eyes and then turned to Vince, who was still grinning.

Dismissing them completely, she turned to Eric and said,

"If we wait an hour to leave, we might miss the trucks. We should go now in order to get to the site before they do."

Vince's eyes flashed with unadulterated glee, as though he'd found prey worth hunting. Eric shot him a warning look.

"You're right," He said, as he turned back to Lila. "But I'm not going with you."

"I don't understand."

"I'm sending you with these two." He nodded to the gun toting duo. "Four's men are too loud and my men will be carrying heavier weapons to deal with the armored trucks. We'll be driving in vehicles of our own. You three will be a lot faster and a lot more efficient if you go by yourselves. And anyway, the truck drivers would spot us a mile away if we traveled together."

"Plus it'll me more fun this way," Added Vince. "Now Warren and I finally get to see what you're capable of."

Lila flashed him a murderous look, and he chuckled. Ignoring whatever war was going on between them, Eric said,

"Someone will drive you part way to the site, and then you'll walk from there. Try your best to be discreet." He eyed the blonde man warily, but Vince merely shrugged, as if saying, I'll do my best. No promises.

"Stay put once you get there and wait for the trucks to arrive. Once they do, radio me, or Four. We won't be too far behind."

Despite all her glaring and frowning, Lila's voice was soft when she asked,

"Why can't I go with you?"

When she arrived in Dauntless eight months ago, she'd been ordered to stay close by his side, because she was dangerous and unpredictable and couldn't be trusted with anyone else. It was times like this when Eric wondered if her reluctance to part from him was merely because she'd been told not to, or because some small piece of her had grown to trust him.

As gently as he could manage, he said,

"I need you to be my eyes and ears today. Without you, my men have no way of knowing what they're dealing with. We'd be charging into a fight blindly."

Lila wore a mask of calm, but he could tell she was unhappy by the way her eye twitched.

"Okay," She said.

And Eric watched, as she marched out of the pit with Vince and Warren at her heels.


	6. Lila

The second Lila was out of Eric's line of sight, she ripped off her vest and hurled it into the chasm.

"Think she'll try tossing us as well?"

She snarled at the blonde man's words, still hating him despite the rifle he carried, which was an exact replica of her own. Eric probably thought that partnering her with a fellow sniper would make her more sympathetic towards his plan, but Vince was the last person she wanted to work with. The man looked like a lion trapped in a cage.

Her cellphone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text that simply read,

Play nice.

She had no desire to, but if orders were given, she'd obey. She always did. When they reached the car stationed outside, Warren opened the door for her with a smile, but she glowered nonetheless. Eric hadn't said anything about being polite.

"Quite the lady's man," Said Vince, as he patted his friend on the shoulder and slid in next to her.

He sat down with an exaggerated sigh and combed his fingers through his hair. When he did, she noticed a jagged scar that snaked around the back of his ear, like someone had tried sawing it off with a dull knife. She stared a bit longer at the ugly mark before leaning against the door, not curious enough to ask how he'd gotten it.

The ride out of Dauntless was brief filled only with the sound of Vince tapping his finger against his rifle. With the pale moon low in the sky, Lila counted the passing trees and marveled at Amity's far reaching meadows. She'd never seen anything like it. Her mood lifted ever so slightly, even as their chauffeur killed the engine and told them that this was their stop.

Ignoring the dull ache that was her broken rib, she opened the car door and stepped out onto the grass. Vince climbed out after her. As he went to slam the door, something made him pause. His eyes were fixed on the trail they had driven on. For a moment, he looked as though he'd forgotten where he was, but when he realized Lila was staring at him, his frown melted into a grin. Before he could say anything, she turned on her heel to catch up with Warren.

The three of them trekked through Amity's tall grass without so much as a word to each other. During some point on their hike, Lila began fiddling with one of her throwing knives, testing the sharpness of the blade by pricking her finger to draw blood. Vince entertained himself with his sniper scope. Every so often, he'd use it to look over his shoulder, obviously impatient with how much ground they were covering.

A few fireflies flickered through the wildflowers, and Lila watched, as Vince's taller and much burlier companion reached his hand out as if to catch them. She studied Warren out of the corner of her eye, amazed with how he carried his two-hundred pound gun with such ease. The weight of the weapon not slowing him down in the slightest. She could tell he was an experienced soldier, and yet he didn't have the face of a killer. In fact, his cheeks looked soft and his eyes even more so, as he gazed in awe at the droplets of yellow light that swirled in the undergrowth.

"Looks you have a secret admirer, Warren," Vince drawled. "The girl can't keep her eyes off you."

She made a face, and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, don't be so sensitive. All I'm saying is that if you're going to gawk at the poor man, you might as well talk to him. Besides, he's used to the staring."

Warren nodded and said simply,

"I'm a big man."

Leaning closer to her, Vince whispered,

"That's what he promises all the ladies,

His breath tickled the shell of her ear, and she went to smack him away just as Warren chuckled, the deep sound dancing along her bones. Looking back and forth between her two strange companions, she wondered how it was possible for them to be friends. Wondered just how long they'd known each other. A small part of her wanted to hear Warren laugh again, but the two men had fallen silent once more.

When they reached the edge of Amity's forest, dawn had finally broken. Lila squinted at the rising sun, listening for signs of Factionless men, while Vince leaned against a nearby tree. She ignored the way his eyes roamed over her body and stepped closer to Warren. She could tell he was on high alert as well. They hadn't reached the drop off site, but she supposed they were close enough to warrant caution.

"There's an abandoned warehouse a few miles ahead," Said Vince, as he unclipped a small canteen of water from his belt. "If the Factionless are smart, that's where they'll be."

Warren grunted in response. He didn't seem convinced.

"Is something wrong?" She asked him. It was the first time she'd spoken to him directly.

Warren merely readjusted his gun onto his other shoulder and said,

"Maybe."

She scanned the area once more, turning in a full circle, but didn't find anything out of the ordinary. Just tall trees and green grass and anything else one would expect to find in a forest.

"Quit your gawking," Said Vince. He took a sip of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's doing nothing for my nerves."

Noticing her confused expression, he said,

"We're being followed. Have been for a while now." She tensed at his words. "Something or someone must've warned the Factionless that we'd show up."

"How?" She asked.

The blonde man raised his eyebrows. Lila thought back to when he'd gotten out of the car. How he'd hesitated. He must've sensed their pursuers from the very start.

"How what?"

"How did you know?"

He tsked. Once. Twice.

"I think the more important question is, why didn't you? You're a trained killer after all."

She couldn't answer him.

"Well don't beat yourself up about it." His tone suggested she should. "It's only a small group. Maybe six men at most."

He pushed himself off the tree he'd been leaning against, his movements smooth and unrushed, like he didn't want to scare off whoever was hunting them.

"There'll be more waiting for us up ahead."

The Factionless had set up a trap. She felt embarrassed for not seeing it sooner. "We should radio for backup."

The gleam in his eyes indicated that he had other plans in mind, and she had to admit that a small part of her craved the challenge of an unfair fight as well.

"There's no need," He said, taking his pistol from his hip. "Eric and his men are likely still in Dauntless waiting for our signal that the trucks have arrived. It would take too long for them to get here."

"He still needs to know," Said Lila, because she was his eyes and ears. But then again, he was the one who decided to split them up. He'd sent her off with two complete strangers like it was nothing.

Vince scoffed and spoke to her like a parent would a child. "They'd be of no use to us. We're better off dealing with them ourselves."

Them, as in their pursuers. She could see them far away in the distance now. The fact that she hadn't noticed them before frightened her. Made her question her own abilities.

"We need to tell someone."

But Vince heard the reluctance in her voice. Without another word, he raised his pistol and fired two shots into the air, all the while grinning like a madman.

"Funny thing about traps is that they're useless when sprung too early."


	7. Lila

They were surrounded in a matter of seconds. Lila counted eight Factionless men, each more gaunt than the next wearing nothing but stained cotton t-shirts and ripped cargo pants. Their guns aimed to fire. She didn't recognize any of them.

"Drop your weapons!"

Lila knew firsthand that Factionless soldiers, though highly untrained, were volatile and unpredictable, so she set her rifle down and lowered herself onto her knees. Warren did the same. She dared a glance at Vince. He hadn't spoken of a game plan, so she assumed they were improvising.

"Where's the rest of your crew?"

She looked up to find a Factionless man staring down at her. The barrel of his gun aimed straight for her head.

"Not here," She replied. His eyes flared.

"Bullshit." Cool metal caressed her lips, but she didn't flinch. "Tell me where they are."

"I told you they're not-

The back of his hand cracked against her cheek.

"Tell me!"

She whipped her head back to snarl at him, even as blood trickled down her chin. Vince whistled lowly. He sat on his haunches, completely unperturbed.

"Now that's no way to treat a lady."

"I'll treat her however I want." To prove his point, the Factionless man grabbed Lila by her braid and jerked her towards him. The barrel of his gun pressed into her temple.

"Tell me where they are, or she's dead."

Vince's eyes locked onto hers and then onto the blade she held in her right hand.

"Well at least you're ambitious," He said dryly. "Stupid, but ambitious."

The man behind her tensed. "Have it your way."

Lila ducked, as he pulled the trigger. She whirled on him, eyes blazing. He didn't have time to look surprised, as she gouged her knife into his eye, relishing in the hot blood that seeped through her fingers. Vince knocked the rifle out of a nearby soldier's hands and fired two shots into his chest. He glanced at Lila, eyes wide, as someone charged her from the left. She grabbed the barrel of the man's gun before he could fire and slashed his throat with her second blade. She tasted copper and salt, as blood sprayed her face.

"Watch out!"

Pain erupted through her side, as Vince tackled her to the ground.

"Keep your head down!"

She felt his rapidly beating heart against her back. Heard the hoarseness in his breath, as Warren's machine gun roared to life. Vince braced himself against her, his arms acting like a shield, as bullets ricocheted off of nearby Factionless men and trees.

Warren mowed down the rest of the soldiers in a matter of seconds. They dropped like flies, falling in tangled heaps on the forest floor. Their bodies riddled with crimson holes. With gaping mouths and unseeing eyes, they looked as though they'd been petrified in states of unabashed terror.

Lila winced, as Vince finally rolled off of her. She twisted onto her back, desperate to alleviate the pressure on her chest, and moaned. The blonde man was suddenly crouching down next to her, his expression unreadable, as he slipped a cold hand under her shirt.

She shrieked. "What are you doing?!"

"Checking to see if my earlier suspicions were correct."

Lila yelped, as his calloused fingers trailed a path over her abdomen. She fought the urge to cry out, as he added pressure to a specifically sore area.

"You sneaky little thing," He mumbled. His touch became featherlight, as he traced lazy circles on the skin above her broken rib. "How long have you been hiding this?"

When she tried swatting him away, he merely grabbed her flailing wrist and tsked.

"Someone's been a naughty girl."

"Don't touch me," She rasped. Appearing weak in front of Vince was the last thing she needed.

"You do realize it's against protocol to head into the field with an injury, right?"

"Do you care?"

"No," He admitted. "I just can't believe Eric sent you out like this." He hadn't really. If he'd known about her injury, he never would've assigned her to this mission.

Vince's lips curled ever so slightly, as though he'd read her thoughts. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the sound of Warren cursing under his breath. Craning her neck, Lila could see him standing amongst the dead soldiers holding a pair of binoculars against his face.

"Reinforcements," He said simply.

The muscle in Vince's jaw twitched. He regarded Lila with a smirk, for she was still sprawled in the dirt with his hand beneath her shirt.

"Will you be able to make it to the warehouse, or will I have to carry you?" he asked.

"I'll manage." She bit back a sigh of relief when he pulled his hands away.

"You sure? Because I'm not completely opposed to the idea."

"I am," She muttered, as she pushed herself to stand. Every movement was taxing, and she doubted her body would last much longer before it simply gave out on her.

"How many are there, Warren?" asked Vince, as he stood and patted the dirt of his pants.

"A few."

"Think you can handle them on your own?"

The large man grunted, and Lila could've sworn he rolled his eyes behind his binoculars.

"I'll take that as a yes then." Vince re-holstered his pistol and nodded at Lila. "You and I will take the long way round to get to the warehouse."

"What about Warren?"

She wasn't necessarily worried about the larger man. He could take care of himself, but traveling alone with Vince wasn't high on her list of things she wanted to do.

"We'd only get in his way if we stayed," He said, brushing a hand through his hair. "Plus, the more Factionless he can lure out, the easier it'll be for us when we get to the warehouse."

"So we're dealing with everyone by ourselves?"

"For now, yes. Think you can handle that?"

"Yes."

"Then let's go."

Eric's face flashed through her mind, but she dismissed the thought of him with a shake of her head.

She'd radio him eventually.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N

For those of you following my story, thank you so much for your support! Feel free to leave a comment or a review. They help me out a lot.


	8. Charles

Perhaps he would throw himself off the tree branch and break his neck, though the angle would have to be just right. Had he some rope, he would've tied himself a noose and been done with it.

He took another long drag from his crumbling cigarette, praying that the smoke inhalation would kill him before the rebellion did. Why anyone would charge a decrepit, near senile man of commanding a militia was beyond him. He had plenty of military experience, yes, but that didn't qualify him for starting mutinies. If his dealings with past uprisings taught him anything, it was that the Factionless had little chance of surviving a rebellion, let alone a revolution. Food was scarce enough already without having to supply a militia. Guns and ammo were also hard to come by, and he doubted that The City would be offering their services again any time soon. With countless lives lost and little to no recompense for sacrifices made, tensions were high. And patience was wearing thin.

The ashes of his cigarette floated to the ground. He was prepared to search his pack for another when a gunshot sounded in the distance. He tensed. Even with his deteriorated sense of hearing, he recognized the sound of enemy fire. After clambering down the tree, he made a beeline through the forest, sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him until he reached the warehouse. When he stepped into the clearing, someone screamed at him to get down. The familiar voice was so panicked and shrill that Charles dove behind a stack of crates without a second thought. Gripping his revolver like a vice, he peaked around the corner only to be shot at by some invisible enemy lurking in the trees.

"For fucks sake!" He shouted.

He rolled onto his side to avoid another bullet and that's when he noticed the bodies. Sprawled lifelessly in the dirt were some of his men, and by the way they'd fallen, he could tell they'd been caught unawares. Ambushed. He cursed, for the men he'd sent out into the forest were probably dead too.

An arm jutted out from a pile of supply bags. Without thinking, he crawled over to the makeshift barricade only to discover Neal's body. His youngest recruit. The sixteen year-old boy had been shot in the head.

"Sir."

Charles whipped his head around to find another soldier sitting behind the tire of their Humvee, his fingers fumbling with the cloth wrapped around his thigh. He gulped for air, as his own blood soaked the earth beneath him. Charles was at his side in a heartbeat. He swallowed his dread and grabbed the man's face. Forcing him to look up.

"How many are there?" he asked.

But Noah only stared blankly, his chest rising and falling once more before his eyes fluttered close. He'd lost too much blood. Charles held onto his friend a second longer before laying his body against the Humvee. There would be no time for prayers. No time for mourning. There never was.

On his stomach once more, he crawled to another makeshift barricade where two more of his men had taken cover. Robin, his best marksman, greeted him with a weary smile, as he held his dead companion in his lap.

"You're a bit late to the party," He rasped.

Charles snorted despite the guilt gnawing at his heart. "I see that."

He nodded to the rifle on the ground. "How many bullets?"

"Just enough to kill myself with."

"Save the theatrics for when I get you out of here," Said Charles.

"How? They've got us surrounded."

"How many?"

"It doesn't matter. Show your face and they'll shoot you." Robin frowned at the man in his arms. "And they won't miss."

Charles new as much. Seeing no other options, he chucked his revolver over the barricade earning himself an incredulous look.

"Well that seems counterintuitive."

He glared at his friend once more, as he raised his hands and rose from the ground.

"Just wait for my signal," He said.

His legs moved on their own accord, as he stepped over the barricade and strode past the remainder of his squad. A voice spoke to him after six steps, and he halted in his tracks. Heartbeat pounding against his skull.

"Hands behind your head."

Charles obeyed.

"Now on your knees."

Gritting his teeth, he lowered himself onto the ground once more, and his eyes widened as two people emerged from the forest. Not at all the squadron of Dauntless soldiers he'd been expecting.

"Well you're a sight for sore eyes."

The man's golden hair fell in loose curls over his shoulders framing his face in a bright halo that did nothing to offset the wickedness of his grin. Charles regarded him with narrowed eyes before turning his attention to the girl standing next to him. He swallowed thickly.

Her gaze, though cruel and sharp, did nothing to diminish her beauty. With eyes the color of polished steel, hair the darkest shade of black, and a pale face smeared with blood, she looked like an angel of death. Her baldric of silver knives told him his assessment wasn't far off.

"Where are the rest of your men?" the man asked.

"You killed them."

"Not all of them." He sauntered over to the Humvee. Tilting his head, he inspected Noah's dead body. It took everything in Charles' power not to attack him right then and there.

"Tell me where the rest of your squad is."

Charles shook his head - in disbelief or horror, he didn't know. "How many more of us have to die for you to be satisfied?"

A humorless chuckle. "This isn't about satisfaction. This is about preventing the war that your people seem hellbent on having."

The blood in Charles' veins boiled. The man spoke with such arrogance, such callousness, that he leapt to his feet. Damning the consequences.

"You think we wanted this?" he asked.

"I don't know. You tell me."

"We are starving! A rebellion is the only way of getting people to notice us, because no one seems to give a damn."

His enemy remained unfazed. "And what will the Factionless do once they've gained everyone's attention, hmm? Start making demands? Insist on signing another treaty? We both know how that worked out."

"You son of a-

"Uh-uh-uh. Not in front of the lady."

Charles balled his hands into fists. "You mock me, mock us, for taking up arms, and yet you've never lived a day of your life not knowing when your next meal will be. You have no idea what starvation is like. What it can do to people."

"I do," Said the girl suddenly. "I fought for the Factionless once."

Charles studied her in earnest now, for he didn't recognize her. He would've remembered someone with her face. With her eyes.

"You're lying."

"They kept me in a box for over a year," She said.

"One year of starvation is nothing compared to what we've endured."

At his words, the blonde man's eyes flashed.

"Trust me." His voice was dangerously low. "She has endured far more than you can imagine."

"So killing us is justified?"

"This isn't about justice. The Factionless have merely made a nuisance of themselves, and our orders are to eliminate whomever we deem a threat."

Charles regretted surrendering. "You're monsters," He said. "Every last one of you."

The girl crossed her arms defensively, but her golden haired companion merely smiled. "Bold words for a man who got all this men killed."

"Not all of them." For he'd distracted the Dauntless soldier's long enough to give Robin time to escape.

The blonde chuckled, as he pulled his gun from his belt. "Oh, don't worry. Your friend will be joining you soon enough."

Charles tensed, but before he could-


	9. Eric

He sat on the hood of a black SUV, carving an apple with his pocket knife, while his soldiers sifted poker cards through the dirt. In the distance, men, women, and children alike slaved away in Amity's gardens of fruit trees and berry bushes, completely unaware of the Factionless skulking through their forest. Edward, his second in command, scrutinized him with his amber eye- the one not made of glass- as he leaned against the vehicle's bumper.

A muscle feathered in Eric's jaw. "What?"

"You seem tense."

"Just enjoying the scenery."

"Well call that girl of yours while you're at it."

"I told her to be discreet," Eric told him. "She's probably not radioing us for a reason."

"She's traveling with a man the size of a tree. Being discreet is hardly an option."

"And?"

"And we've been out here for hours, and she still hasn't signaled for us. That doesn't worry you at all?"

Eric stopped peeling his apple. "No." Yes.

"You don't think she'll run off?" asked Edward.

"Where exactly would she run off to?"

"It doesn't matter. The point is, if she tried, no one would be able to stop her." He paused. "Do you trust her?"

"Do you?"

"No, and I'm not the only one." A warm breeze rustled the bushes behind them. Amity's air was far too stifling, so Eric shrugged off his jacket and set it aside. He popped a slice of apple into his mouth, frowning at the sweetness of it.

"I've had no complaints."

"Not surprising," Edward said. He nodded at the men playing cards. "They see how protective you are of her."

"If someone has a problem with her, they can tell me."

"And then get dangled over the chasm."

Eric flung the rest of his apple into the grass. "So are you saying our entire unit is scared of one girl?"

"They'd be fools not to be. Bitch could kill us all in our sleep."

"Watch it."

"See? Protective," said Edward. "But whatever. It's your funeral."

"So I've been told."

"What about Vince? You trust him too?"

"Hardly."

"Then why'd you invite him?"

"He knows how to handle someone like Lila."

Edward snorted. "I know a lot of guys that would gladly handle someone like Lila, even at the risk of losing particular appendages." Noticing Eric's expression, he added,

"Oh right. You only have a sense of humor when you're drunk."

"Remind me to never let you work with her."

"Relax," said Edward. "I'm juggling enough girlfriends as is. I don't need another." Someone cursed, as though they'd been dealt a lousy hand of cards, and he smirked.

"So have you ever thought about it?"

Eric raised a brow. "It?"

"Handling Lila."

"Of course not."

"Really? Because from what I've seen, she'd make a nasty-

"Keep it to yourself," said Eric. "I don't need to know what goes on inside your head."

The glass-eyed man grinned from ear to ear, just as his walkie-talkie crackled to life. Unclipping it from his belt, he said,

"What was that?"

"We- into Warren." Four's voice was muffled by static. "Turns out- a one man-"

"He's what?"

"Trap, so they-

Eric snatched the receiver out of Edward's hands, fiddling with the dial until the static subsided.

"Split up."

He pushed himself off the car, grabbing his jacket. "They split up?"

"Apparently."

"What about Lila? Is she with you?"

"No. According to Warren, she took off with Vince a couple hours ago."

Edward chuckled. "Looks like she needs a shorter leash."

Ignoring him, Eric said, "Those trucks will be arriving soon. Without backup, they're screwed."

"I know."

"Find them." He shoved the walkie-talkie into Edward's chest before marching over to his men.

"Get off your asses. We're leaving."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amity workers, all wearing ridiculous straw hats and gardening gloves, gaped at Edward, as he drove by winking and revving the car's engine.

"She's definitely a pain in the ass when she wants to be," said Eric. "Though I wouldn't say she's rebellious." Just incredibly stubborn.

"Pain in the ass is an understatement. The girl came pretty close to killing you once, remember?"

Eric smirked at the memory.

"You know most people wouldn't find that funny," said Edward.

Fallen branches snapped under the weight of the SUV, as it careened into the forest and descended down a steep hill. A flash of movement caught Eric's eye. Grabbing his gun, he rolled down his window and fired two warning shots into the distance.

"The fuck?!" Edward looked at him as if he'd gone mad.

"Just stay here."

Stones crunched beneath his boots, as he hopped out of the car. He fired again, and a startled cry pierced his ears. Pushing through a thicket of wild flowers that made his skin itch, he tracked the sound of labored breathing until he came face to face with an unarmed Factionless soldier cowering in the shrubbery. With dark red hair and scattered freckles, the man looked a bit like Nolan, though his eyes were far more feral.

Eric's grip on his gun never faltered. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you." Because he definitely wanted to.

"I-

"Too slow." He lowered his gun and fired into the man's knee. The soldier's agonized scream echoed through the forest, but Eric merely crouched beside him, pressing the barrel of his gun into the wound.

"Remember to breathe," he said, as he added more pressure, blood seeping from torn flesh like melting ice. "Panicking only makes it worse." The man grit his teeth, and Eric continued. Unfazed and indifferent.

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Where are the rest of your men?"

"Dead."

Eric leaned back, still with his gun in the man's leg. "I'm thinking of several names. I'll list them in just a moment, and as I do I want you to- Hey, focus." He snapped his fingers. "I shot you in the knee, not the brain."

"Fuck you."

"That's the spirit. Now tell me. Hugh Abernathy- Do you know him?"

"Aargh- No!"

"What about Petrov? Name ring any bells?" Realization dawned on the man's face, and Eric smirked. "So you've met Lila, then?"

"No."

"Try again."

"I only-

He winced.

"I only saw her once."

Eric twisted his gun, and the man wailed. "For fucks sake!"

"You're gonna have to do better than that."

"Viktor gave her to us! To help us with the rebellion!"

"Go on."

"Everyone was saying she would turn the tides. Give us a fighting chance."

"Did she?"

"She would've," said the man, clenching his fists. "But then you stole her from us."

"Oh, is that what I did?"

"She wasn't yours to take."

An amused grin concealed Eric's fury. "She wasn't yours to possess." He clicked his tongue in consideration. "What's your name?"

"What does it matter? I'm a dead man."

"You're unarmed. Killing you right now would be a coward's way out."

The man scoffed. "Your people killed a sixteen year-old boy today. Don't pretend to be noble." His eyes darted upwards, and Eric turned to find Edward sauntering towards them.

"Who's this?" he asked.

Eric glanced at the Factionless soldier one last time before standing and marching back to the car, wiping the blood off his gun. "Just tie him to the tree."

"Don't you want to interrogate him before he dies?"

"Only an idiot would die from a kneecapping, and I won't be the one interrogating him when we bring him back."

"More sentimental bullshit?" asked Edward.

Eric chuckled. "Lila's hardly sentimental."

And with that, he slammed the door.


	10. Lila

"Forge yourself an iron heart, darling, but do not relish in your victories," Hugh once told her. "That nasty, bitter feeling you speak of is called guilt, and it is the only thing keeping you from becoming the monster they dreamed you to be. It may tear you apart, make you wish you were dead, but in the end, it is your only saving grace."

"He cared about you," said Vince. "Clearly."

Lila shrugged. Standing guard by one of the warehouse's open windows, and with Vince sitting at an old card table a safe distance away, she allowed her mind to wander. Allowed herself to gaze at the clouds.

"It seems you cared for him too."

"Does it matter?" she asked, a warm breeze caressing her cheek.

"No not really, but we'll be waiting here for an indefinite amount of time, so it might behoove you to play nice." He rocked back in his chair and kicked his feet on the table, crossing one ankle over the other. "Twenty questions."

"What?"

"It's a game. A way for two people to get to know each other."

"I have no interest in getting to know you," said Lila.

A faint smirk played upon Vince's lips. "Sneaky and merciless. I'm learning more about you already." He clicked his tongue. "Fine. Ten questions."

"No thanks."

"Five."

"No."

"How about three?"

Crossing her arms, Lila turned to the blonde and leveled his gaze. "Why?"

"Because I'm bored, and Warren's not here to pester."

Lila sighed. "Fine." She could tolerate his questioning so long as he didn't touch her.

Vince kicked out the chair in front of him, but she refused the offer under the guise that someone needed to keep watch.

"Alright. Let's start with something easy," he said. "What's your favorite color?"

"Don't have one."

"Favorite book?"

"There's too many to choose from."

"What about a favorite song?"

"I don't listen to music."

"What-

"That was three questions."

"Yes, and you didn't answer any of them," said Vince. "You're not even trying."

Because the game was stupid. "I don't have favorites of anything."

Vince's smirk faded. "Then tell me something you hate."

Lila hesitated. She hated a lot of things, or a lot of people more like.

"Just one thing," said Vince, his voice low.

Viktor. "Eric."

"Coulter?" He raised his brows, skeptical and amused at the same time. "Someone told me you two were inseparable."

Lila shrugged and looked back at the window. "He wasn't nice to me when I first got here."

"Eric's not known for his manners," said Vince. "But if not for him, you'd be dead."

"I know. He didn't give me a choice." The words tasted like ash in her mouth. Something dark - a feeling, a claw - loomed in the recesses of her mind - scratching and digging. Taking a deep breath, she shoved that feeling down. Swallowed it whole and buried it. She glanced sidelong at Vince. "I suppose I should thank him."

Something flashed in his eyes. "You wanted to die." It wasn't a question.

Lila searched his face for signs of disgust, of pity, but found nothing save for an emotion she couldn't read. "I don't know what I wanted." A half truth.

Vince reclined further in his seat, tilting his head as he interlaced his fingers on his chest. "Interesting."

Not trusting the look in his eyes, or the unsteadiness of her breathing, Lila turned away from him completely. "I'm done with your questions."

"But we just started."

She pulled out her blade, wiping it against her shirt, as she headed for the door. "I'll be outside."

"You really do have a death wish," said Vince.

With her hand on the doorknob, she looked over her shoulder to find him walking towards her, his hands tucked neatly in his pockets.

"Warren will be here any minute," he said. "You might as well play it safe and wait for him to arrive before you go gallivanting through the forest." He came to a halt a couple of feet in front of her, forcing her to crane her neck to meet his eyes. "And besides… We're not done with our game."

"I don't have any questions for you," said Lila. Still craving fresh air, she opened the door only for Vince to slam it shut. He grinned, pressing his shoulder into it as a means of keeping it closed. 'Humor me,' he seemed to say.

Her gaze fell on his ear. On the curl of hair that hid his scar. "How'd you get it?"

He didn't miss a beat. "Lovers tiff."

"Some lover," said Lila.

Vince offered her a lopsided smile. "And what do you know about lovers?"

Nothing. "Can I go now?"

"Not unless you want to get shot," said Vince. He made his way back towards the table, pausing to glance out the window. "This place is being watched."

"By Factionless?" She would've seen them.

"No. By someone, or some people, better than the Factionless," said Vince. "More skilled. Less noisy."

Being more skilled than the soldiers they'd faced today wouldn't be much of an accomplishment, but Lila backed away from the door nonetheless. "What about Warren?"

"What about him?"

"What if whoever's out there sees him?"

"Oh, they'll see him. Unless there blind."

"You don't seem concerned."

"Trust me," said Vince, absentmindedly counting his ammo. "If you knew him like I did, you wouldn't be either."

Watching him adjust his pistols, Lila realized that she only had one throwing knife left. She looked at her sniper rifle, which she'd propped against the table. It wouldn't do her much good in a gunfight.

"Here," said Vince. He held out his hand, offering her one of his pistols. "Know how to use it?"

Lila scoffed. "Yes." But she didn't take it.

And as she contemplated whether or not using his gun would come back to haunt her, the warehouse door burst open.

Vince rolled his eyes, dropping his arm. "Looks like the cavalry's here."

One soldier, who Lila recognized as one of Four's men, charged into the building with his gun raised. Three more men followed him, single file, with their guns poised as well.

"All clear, boss!"

"Well this should be fun," Vince mumbled, and Lila watched, as Four stepped through the threshold. The Dauntless leader seemed like his typical self, calm and composed, but Lila knew from experience that some people concealed their anger well. Still, she had to admit that Four was much more lenient than most Dauntless leaders.

"You," he said, his eyes on Lila. "Wait outside until you're told otherwise."

"Yes, sir." She wouldn't argue with him like she did with Eric. Picking up her rifle, she headed straight for the door.

"Oh, and here," said Four. She paused, turning just in time to catch his radio. "Since yours is broken." His words were dry, unimpressed and wholly unamused.

Her cheeks suddenly felt warm. "Thanks."

"Update Eric on what's going on. Let him know you're safe."

"Okay," said Lila, once again desperate for some fresh air.

"And Lila."

"Yes?" Just one more step and she'd be out.

"Try not to piss him off."

"Yes, sir."

Though she had a feeling it was already too late.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N

Sorry for the late update. Writer's block hit me hard. Shout out to Ariwolff for her words of encouragement. She's the best!

And for those of you following my story, thanks for hanging in there.


	11. Lila

She rehearsed what she was going to say in her head, her thoughts jumbled at the forefront of her mind. Eric. She'd ignored him for the past three hours and was still angry at him for reasons she couldn't explain.

She decided to sit in the grass at the edge of the clearing by a small maple tree. With her rifle on her lap, she watched as Four's men set up a perimeter around the warehouse while Warren lingered by the door.

With a loose breath, she pressed down on the radio's PTT button. "Eric?" The radio hummed, and she thought maybe the signal was too weak.

"Lila." She wouldn't be so lucky.

"Four's here. He told me to talk to you."

"I'll be sure to thank him."

"We're at the warehouse."

"I know." He was far too calm. "He told me."

She tugged at the laces of her boots. "How much do you know?"

"Enough. Although I'd like to hear your side of the story."

She'd start from the beginning. "We were ambushed. The Factionless knew we were coming."

"Is that why you split up?"

"Yes. Warren was the diversion."

"Were you hurt?"

"No." She had a broken rib, and her face was bruised, but she was fine. "They were too disorganized to do much of anything."

"Disorganized or not, they knew about my plan."

"I know."

"I only have so many informants, so whoever's been feeding me false information should be easy to track down."

A ladybug landed on the toe of her boot. Reaching out, she coaxed it onto her index finger. "How long will that take?"

"Hard to say. Right now, I'm more interested in how you ended up at the warehouse."

Tiny wings fluttered as the wind picked up. "Vince said it'd make a good hideout for the Factionless."

"I'm sure it was," said Eric. "Before you two charged it."

"We kept our distance." The ladybug flew off.

"Your instructions were to stay hidden."

Tree bark dug into her skin, as she pulled her knees close to her chest. "We did. They never saw us coming."

"Not the point, Lila."

"Then what is?"

"By killing those men, you and Vince compromised their entire operation."

Lila yanked out a fistful of grass. "Wasn't that the plan?"

"The plan," said Eric, "Was to capture the armored trucks. But once the drivers realize that their buyers are dead, they'll hightail it back to whatever hole they came from. They'll change the site of the drop-off, the route, the date. Everything. By fucking up their mission, you've fucked up ours."

Arguing with him would be pointless, but agreeing with him seemed worse. "It was Vince's idea. I was just following orders."

"Your orders don't come from Vince," said Eric. "You know that."

She hated his tone. "I take orders from whoever's in charge."

"Vince is not in charge. Neither is Warren."

"They were the moment you pawned me off to them." Her words were bitter. She bit her tongue to keep herself from saying anything else.

"Throwing a tantrum, Lila?" He was the calm before the storm, the peaceful quiet before every lightning strike.

There'd be no reasoning with him. "No."

"Keep it that way."

She'd reign herself in, just like she always did. "Yes, sir."

"I vouched for you," said Eric. "Don't make me regret that."

A moment of silence passed between them, and she thought about every mistake she'd made leading up to this point. Every word, every phrase. Every action not taken. How did she end up in Dauntless? What was she becoming? She had too many questions without answers, and then there was Eric.

"There's still a small chance that the trucks will come," he said. "Or at least show up somewhere in Amity. For now, stick with Four."

She hated him, but she needed him too. "Okay."

Sensing that the conversation was over, she clipped Four's radio onto her belt and walked back to the warehouse. Warren nodded at her in greeting. His dark brown hair was matted with blood, but he seemed roughly unharmed.

"You're not dead," said Lila.

He smiled. "I'm a stubborn man."

The sound of Vince and Four arguing permeated from the open window. Knowing it would be a long wait, Lila slumped against the door and marveled at the setting sun, which sat atop a tree like a burning star swathed in gold, surrounded by green, grassy hills. Compared to Dauntless, which was always gray and dull, Amity was like a beacon of light.

"You should see it in the winter," said Warren, face wrinkling, as his smile grew. "The fields gets covered in white, like powdered sugar."

Lila kicked the dirt off her boots. "That'll happen anywhere where it snows."

He chuckled. "You sound like Vince."

"Pretentious?"

"Cynical."

Again, she wondered how long the two men had known each other, and again, she didn't bother asking.

"There are ponds," said Warren, pointing to some faraway place. "Sometimes, when the water freezes, people skate."

"Skate?"

"On the ice." He lifted his foot and tapped the bottom of his boot. "With metal blades on their shoes."

She was curious now. "Are you from here?"

"Yes."

She didn't know much about the other factions besides the things Eric had told her. "Isn't Amity the peaceful faction?"

"It is."

"But you carry a gun."

"I do," said Warren. "So the people I love never have to."

A strange notion, Lila thought, as she slid to the ground. She placed her rifle in front of her, resting her elbows on her knees. She couldn't hear Vince and Four anymore, so she assumed they'd come to a standstill in their argument.

"What about you?" From the ground, Warren looked gargantuan. "Why do you carry your gun?"

"To kill people," said Lila. "So they can't kill me."

His laughter sent goose bumps down her arm. "You do sound like Vince."

"Because I'm cynical?"

"Very cynical."

Picking up a lone twig, Lila drew a heart in the dirt. "I have my reasons."

"So does he," said Warren.

He went quiet, and Lila looked up to discover him staring at something in the distance, just below the sun.

Jumping to her feet, she grabbed her rifle. "What is that?"

Columns of smoke rose from the trees like vaporous serpents, sending flocks of birds fleeing into an orange sky.

The warehouse door flung open, as Four rushed passed her. "What the hell is he doing?"

Then Lila saw it – a flash of movement, as something rolled across the dirt in front of them.

Someone cried in alarm, as a wave of toxic gas surged towards them.

"Smoke grenade!"

A second one soared into the clearing, hissing like a snake.

But there wasn't time to think – the sound of a remote, detonating bomb rupturing the air.

Hands grabbed her. "Give me the radio!"

She fumbled for the stupid thing and handed it to Four.

"Eric, do you copy? Eric?" He coughed. "Eric!"

"Signal jammer," said Vince, his voice faraway "It's no use."

"We need to move."

"No shit."

Lila's eyes burned. Dropping to her hands and knees, she crawled towards what she hoped would be fresh air.

"Get the engines running!"

"Warren and I can walk."

"Are you insane?"

Someone grabbed her elbow. "You just noticed?"

"Just take the damn car!"

She held her breath, as she was hauled through the smog.

"Keep your wits about you," said Vince.

She tried not to gag. "What's happening?"

"Like I said, we were being watched, and Four here just gave whoever's out there a bigger target."

"Oh, fuck you!"

The ground swayed beneath her.

"We'll be quicker on our own," said Vince. "Move!"

The smoke dissipated, and she nearly stumbled over a tree branch.

"Warren!"

"Right behind you!"

She couldn't tell what was happening.

But she'd run.


	12. Robin

One of Robin's hands had been bound to a tree branch with thick, unyielding rope that cut into his skin like a knife. Without his box cutter, undoing the knot would be impossible, and even if he did free himself, there'd be nowhere to run. Rather than waste his energy on the thought of escaping, he hiked up his shorts in order to assess the damage done to his leg, because apparently, only an idiot would die from a kneecapping.

He cursed, as he pulled back the blood-soaked fabric of his cargos. Congealed blood oozed out of the hole in his knee, and if he looked closely enough, he could see bits of shattered bone floating in a phlegmy, yellow substance. With the amount of blood he'd already lost, he couldn't afford to move his leg, so he stifled his cries and applied more pressure to his leg in an attempt to stop the bleeding for good. He didn't need a medical degree to know that he'd never walk again – not like he used to, anyway. If this injury didn't kill him and his enemies didn't to torture him to death, he'd likely live the rest of his life as a cripple.

All because of Eric, fucking, Coulter.

Up until today, Robin had never laid eyes upon the man, though he'd definitely heard of him. The Dauntless leader made quite the name for himself during the Divergent War and was notorious for his brutal military tactics. While he had the body of a honed fighter, he had the mind of an Erudite tactician. Now that he had Lila, there was no telling what he or Dauntless was capable of.

Robin's skin felt hot, clammy almost. With his hand still pressed against his knee, his leaned back and closed his eyes. If his gunshot wound was infected, he'd drift to sleep and die in the middle of a dream. Drifting to sleep didn't sound so terrible though. His life had been a never-ending nightmare since the rebellion began, and he had a feeling it would remain that way until he keeled over and died.

Lila must've felt the same way. He imagined her sitting in that godforsaken cell with that grim, hopeless expression she always bore. Those long nights in which he visited her seemed like ancient history now.

Still...

"What do you want?" Her voice was as clear as day.

"To help you," he told her, brandishing his key. "You should be grateful."

"Come closer," she said. "And I'll show you just how grateful I am."

She was nothing but a shadow in the corner, her eyes glowing like silver moons. With knotted hair slicked with grease and an angry sneer on her face, she looked as though she'd been raised by wolves. She sure growled like one.

Robin crouched on the stone cold floor and showed her the first aid kit he'd brought with him. "I'm only here to help you."

"I don't want your help."

"Well at this point, you don't have much of a choice." His hand reached for her shackled ankle.

Her lips pulled back from her teeth. "I dare you."

"I won't touch you. I promise." Ever so carefully, Robin leaned forward and unfastened the manacle around her ankle without so much as grazing her. "See?" Sitting back on his haunches, he opened his first aid kit and pulled out a half empty bottle of rubbing alcohol and a strip of gauze.

He unscrewed the bottle first and handed it to her.

Her gaze darkened. "It stinks."

"It's supposed to," said Robin. He gestured to her wound. "Go ahead."

"Will it kill me if I drink it?"

"Are you hoping it will?"

"Yes."

"Then no," said Robin. "But I'm sure it'll give you a nasty stomach ache."

Lila rolled her eyes but nonetheless took the bottle. "Fine." She poured some of its contents onto her skin, which was raw and swollen from months of chafing. After patting the area dry, she grabbed the gauze and began expertly wrapping her ankle.

"Have a lot of experience with this sort of thing?" Robin asked.

"You mean being locked up? Not really."

"I was referring to the bandaging."

"I know," said Lila, securing the gauze with a small clip. "I was joking."

"Your jokes aren't very funny."

Lila refastened the manacle back onto her ankle. "I guess I just have a dark sense of humor."

Robin realized that somewhere, in another life perhaps, Lila would've been an easy girl to love. He stared at the stars above him, praying that sleep would come quickly.

Eventually, Robin knew of nothing.

He dreamt of nothing.

He was nothing.

Only when the sound of revving engines filled his ears did he become something again. His heart flopped in his chest, as two black SUV's, loud and raucous, rushed towards him like monstrous beasts. The first car roared past him, spitting dirt in his face, but the second one came to a screeching halt just a few yards in front of him. Blinded by the yellow headlights, he had no way of knowing who he was dealing with.

A car door slammed.

He squinted at the dark silhouette approaching him. Eventually, his eyes adjusted to the light, but what he saw didn't exactly calm his nerves.

The man staring down at him couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old. His uniform, which was almost completely black, bore Dauntless' flamed insignia on it in several different places. If he was a leader, he was surprisingly young. Charles would've made fun of him for looking like a baby.

"Aim for this," said Robin, poking himself in the forehead.

The stranger lowered himself to the ground, frowning at the hole in Robin's knee. "I'm not gonna shoot you. Believe it or not, we do have standards."

"Could've fooled me."

"If you want to die out here, no one's stopping you. But if you come with me, you might live to see another day."

Robin scoffed. To live or not to live. That was the question. "You good at undoing knots?"

"No," said the stranger. "But I have a knife."

"Well then," said Robin. "Get to it."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
AN - Writing this chapter made me feel constipated.   
Too much information?


	13. Lila

The trail was dimly lit due to the sun having been set, but Vince navigated the forest with ease and grace. He was born to run, Lila realized - her heart pounding in her skull, as she fought to match his pace. Warren had fallen a few yards behind, but he was still quick for his size, almost as quick as Lila, who couldn't help but feel impressed. Ignoring her aching limbs, she surged forward until she and Vince ran shoulder to shoulder. His sweat-soaked shirt was the only indication he was tired.

"Smell that?" he asked.

Like burning oak and pine, the air was tainted with the scent of fire. The aroma was strangely familiar and reminded Lila of the cigars Hugh used to carry around in his pocket when he was a younger, less enthused, handler.

"What we heard earlier wasn't a regular bomb," said Vince. "I'm thinking incendiary. What are your guesses, Warren?"

Warren didn't – or perhaps couldn't respond. The man was carrying a two-hundred-pound gun after all.

Though vaguely aware of her broken rib, Lila refused to slow down. As the trail sloped upwards and her thighs screamed in protest, she reminded herself that the body gave up long after the mind did. Fighting in the ring had taught her that.

As they reached the top of the hill, Vince halted in his tracks.

Bright, orange flames, like nothing Lila had ever seen before, swelled with each passing breeze and tore through the horizon like a ghastly, red grin. Something akin to late autumn leaves fell from the sky, except these leaves had been robbed of their color and vibrancy.

"Ash," said Vince.

Lila smeared the substance between her fingertips, as Warren sidled up next to her, his eyes glowing as brightly as the drifting embers around him.

"If the fire reaches the fields-

"It won't," Vince assured him. "Even if it does, Johanna would've evacuated by now."

Lila didn't know who Johanna was and didn't care enough to ask. Without warning, she broke into a hard sprint– her bangs slick with sweat, as she headed straight for the inferno. Halfway down the hill, something far above her head snapped. Red hot sparks flew, and before she knew it, she was being tackled to the ground.

With his arms coiled around her, Vince rolled her off the path just as a charred branch careened to the forest floor, landing with a jeering 'thud!' He pressed himself close – his breath hot against her cheek, as she attempted to wriggle out from under him. "Impulsive idiot."

Her chest heaved in irritation. "Get off me."

With a hard flick to her forehead, Vince stopped Lila's squirming. He bared a set of perfectly white teeth, ignoring her enraged scowl. "What's the magic word?"

"Off," said Lila, her tone leaving no room for debate. "Now."

"I've saved your life twice now," said Vince. "The least you can do is thank me."

"Vince." Warren's tone was anything but jovial. "Enough."

"My god, you two are insufferable." With a fanciful sigh, Vince pushed himself off the ground, hauling Lila up with him. The second she was on her feet, she shook off his grip and retreated back a step. His eyes followed her every move, and she immediately regretted leaving her rifle at the warehouse. She'd lost it in the smoke, and she never felt more exposed.

Warren bowed his head slightly, almost as if to apologize for his friend's actions. His rueful smile calmed Lila's nerves ever so slightly. "We need a plan."

"I realize that," said Vince, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the corded muscles of his forearms. For a man standing in the middle of a burning forest, he was unusually calm. "Let me think for a moment."

"Overthinking a simple situation will get you killed," said Lila.

"No. Charging headfirst into a forest fire will get you killed," said Vince. "So will getting your face bashed in with a tree branch."

Warren shot him another disapproving glare. "Vince."

"In my experience, arsonists tend to stick around to admire their handiwork." Vince unclipped one of his pistols and offered it to Lila, who vehemently refused. He rolled his eyes as if she was the one being complicated. "Chances are whoever caused the explosion is still out here, so take the gun."

"What about Eric?" she asked, arms folded.

A smirk. "I thought you hated him."

Lila wasn't overly fond of the man, but that didn't mean she wanted him dead. "It's complicated."

"Sure it is." Vince offered her his pistol once more. "Take it, and we can go find him."

Lila did, albeit reluctantly. Strangely enough, the weight of the pistol was comforting. How long had it been since she'd held anything but a sniper rifle?

"Let's go," said Vince.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fire, Lila realized, was as beautiful as it was devastating. As a painter, she might've been tempted to trace the orange and blue outlines of the flames if it weren't for their scorching heat. She remembered her handler's words. "Beautiful things aren't always meant to be touched. They are meant to be witnessed." Lila was nothing but a witness to the fire's rage, as it engulfed everything in its path, igniting a furor amongst every animal vying for escape. Squirrels and deer alike scrambled for their lives, the birds having flown off some time ago, as trees and bushes burned and crumbled.

The further they ran, the more taxing it was to breathe. In fear of catching a mouthful of ash, no one dared speak, not even Vince, whose silhouette was disfigured by the waves of heat invading Lila's vision. She felt as though someone was jabbing her with her own throwing knife, each lungful of air being more painful than the last. It took all of her concentration not to collapse from sheer exhaustion. She focused on the sound of crackling leaves to keep her thoughts at bay, or else they'd overwhelm her completely.

"Lila." Vince's voice was distant, even though he was standing right in front of her. He brought his canteen to her lips, and she drank from it greedily - the water soothing her dry throat. "Better?"

She nodded, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

"I'm not seeing any signs of the others, but that doesn't mean they're not here," said Vince.

Out of a strange perversity, Lila unclipped her radio and turned the dial until the screen blinked to life. Vince watched her, as she raised the device up to her mouth. "Four? Four do you copy?"

A cacophony of static was the radio's only response. It beeped and whirred and ticked like it was broken, but Lila left it on just in case.


	14. Lila

Hey there, I made a minute edit at the end of chapter 13, so if you're following my story, please take a look at that before reading this chapter. I try to avoid making edits to chapters I've already posted, but this one was necessary.

To those of you following my story, thank you so much for your support. And to those of you who comment, I really do appreciate the feedback!

Enjoy.

 

* * *

 

Glowing cinders burned down in spirals, eddying like feathers in an orange haze. Torrid, unrelenting flames cast shadows that flickered and lurched onto the trees like withered bats. Talons of smoke clawed at Lila's heels while she traversed a bramble of wildflowers, her own shadow unfurling by her feet. She stole a cursory glance at Warren, whose eyes reflected the devastating scarlet of the horizon and the gray of the open sky.

"Be mindful of the thorns," she told him.

He chuckled faintly, his gaze distant. "I'm not worried about thorns."

Lila's radio hummed tauntingly against her hip. "Neither am I."

Vince led the way into a moonlit clearing, where the smell of wet grass pervaded the air, the ground not yet desiccated from the rising temperature. He took his canteen from his hip and spoke between gulps of water before sauntering off to some dark place. "Have to pee."

Lila inhaled deeply. Crisp air invaded her lungs and crept along her skin. She closed her eyes, wanting to be somewhere else, somewhere closer to home. For a heartbeat, there was absolute stillness. A peaceful quiet that lingered and faded. Her city – no, not her city. It belonged to everyone else, and yet her heart ached for it. She must've been insane for wanting to return, but in quiet moments like this, it was all she could think of doing.

"Vince thinks he's clever." The timbre of Warren's voice was that of a well-worn bell. "But even he can't predict which way this fire will burn."

"He mentioned someone named Johanna," said Lila, her eyes opening. "Amity's leader?"

Warren's lips twitched into a hesitant smile. "One might call her that."

"Eric never mentioned her."

"That's because Johanna is not fond of Eric," said Warren. "And Eric is not fond of her."

"They have a history?" Lila asked.

"Something like that."

A sharp whistle caught their attention, and they turned their heads towards the edge of the clearing, where Vince's silhouette flickered like a candlelight. He whistled again, so loudly that Lila feared the entire forest might hear him.

She hissed at his retreating figure. "Are we dogs?"

"No," said Warren. "He's just obnoxious."

They strode out of the clearing and wandered until they caught up with Vince, whose golden curls were tinged with ash like burnt umber. Half his face remained in shadow – the other in a fiery, evanescent light. He gestured to something, and for a moment, Lila couldn't say what it was, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized he was pointing to an SUV. It sat alone, parked in the narrow space between two trees, unassuming and undisturbed.

Lila hoped the absence of the driver was a good sign, as she peered through the car's tinted windows. There were no dead bodies to be found, just a few Styrofoam cups scattered along the dash and someone's discarded bulletproof vest. "Four's." She knew Eric never wore his and struggled to hide her disappointment.

Vince rapped his finger's on the car's hood. "He better be close."

"Only one way to find out," said Lila.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Four was easy to find. He hadn’t strayed far from his car. In fact, they found him in a span of three minutes with an unconscious man, whom Lila placed as one of Eric’s men, draped over his shoulder, barely breathing.

“He’s not looking too pretty,” Vince said.

      “Just help me.”  

Four looked to have been through hell with his face covered in grime and his hair soaked with sweat. The air was biting, and The fumes were thick. It was too clouded to be beautiful. No one could see a damn thing.

Warren took the man without complaint and hauled him onto his shoulder the way he did with his gun, grunting at the inconvenience of having to carry both. “Heavy man.”

“Just take him to the car.” Four cracked his knuckles, then his neck. “We’ll drive him out from there.”

“What about Eric?” Vince asked, flashing Lila a knowing look.

“There’s no sign of him,” said Four. “Chances are he and Edward already left.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” said Vince.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re running out of time.”

Lila watched Warren disappear down the shaded path they’d come down, effectively making himself scarce. “Then we’ll make time.” She squared her shoulders and turned to Four. “I’m not leaving. Not without Eric.”

Four stared down at Lila with knitted brows. “Are you calling the shots now?”

“Just stating a fact,” she told him.

Vince turned to make his way back to the car and said over his shoulder, “She’s about as stubborn as he is Four. I wouldn’t argue.”

Four scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. “Just what we need. Another Eric.”

Lila didn’t appreciate the comparison, but she didn’t say as much.

Four walked alongside her in relative silence, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

“What?” she asked.

But he never responded. When they reached his car, it was business as usual. “I need to get him-“

He jerked his head towards the unconscious man in the back seat.

“- Out of here. Come with me or don’t. What’s it going to be?”

 “I’m not leaving without Eric.” Lila half expected Vince or Warren to argue, but they both seemed satisfied with her answer.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Four.

She didn’t of course.


	15. Eric

For a long moment, Eric forgot where he was. Then he remembered the crash - the explosion that flipped the car. Pain seared his shoulder as he dragged himself through a shattered windshield, glass crunching beneath his fists. He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked up. Lila stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

"What do I do?" she said.

He grabbed her hand. She helped him to his feet, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Only then did he realize how small she was. With her fingers clawing at his jacket, knees buckling under his weight. Her panicked breaths filled his ears.

"Just walk," he said.

She grunted and pulled harder until they were on the trail. He limped alongside her, biting back a curse as the ground shifted beneath him. Her muscles tightened reflexively as he lurched forward, unable to hold his head up. But she didn't complain. Not once. He took a breath and closed his eyes, trusting that she knew the way out.

"You can't fall asleep." Her voice was oddly quiet. "Eric."

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her, his nose inches from her nose. "I promise I won't." His words calmed her. His very waking presence seemed calming. She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, tilting her chin as if to say, 'okay.'

They ambled through the rest of the forest in relative silence, making only occasional comments about minor things. Sunbeams leaked through the clouds as the first glow of dawn kissed the horizon, a warm breeze stirring the leaves overhead. The air tasted of rain. Sweet like-

"Honeydew," said Lila.

"A storm might put the fire out," Eric told her. "If we're lucky."

He felt the rise and fall of her shoulders as she sighed, batting her bangs out of her face with her hand. "Hugh says there's no such thing as luck."

"Oh, does he?"

With a bang, the skies split in two, and rain descended upon them like tiny beating drums. Eric hated the rain normally, but it'd been a long time since he felt it. He held his free hand out, watching as droplets splashed against the gashes in his palm.

"He says luck is for leprechauns."

Eric rolled his eyes, making himself dizzy. "Do you even know what a leprechaun is?"

"It's"- Lila bit her lip – "they're Irish."

"They're fake."

The forest melted away, and Amity's fields came into view. Eric breathed a sigh of relief as he collapsed onto the wet grass. He could hear Dauntless soldiers shouting in the distance, barking orders at each other like dogs trapped in a kennel with nowhere to run. It was laughable that one fucking grenade was all it took to send his men into a blind panic. He replayed in his mind the past two hours and knew that work needed to be done. The bomb, the crash – none of it should've happened. Lila sat beside him in the grass, but he needed to be alone. Needed time to think.

"Go find Vince and Warren."

"They're busy helping Edward."

"Then go find Four."

"But he's-

"Now," said Eric.

He then fell asleep before she had the chance to stand.

* * *

 

When he came to, Lila was beside him picking grass. She didn't seem to have moved an inch. With her cheek in her hand, she poked at the pile of weeds she'd made. Her braid had come loose and was now a knotted mess at her waist. A feral beauty - that's what Edward called her. And yet there was a fragility in her that left Eric wanting more. Of what, he didn't know. The girl existed in a world of her own. He questioned whether he'd ever understand the thoughts that went beyond her brow, or learn what they were. Her grey eyes flickered to his. She leaned forward, sprinkling grass onto his chest. To his surprise, he let her.

"I'm sorry," she said finally.

He hadn't expected an apology, but he could guess what it was for. For the time being, he'd play dumb. "For what?"

"Not radioing you sooner."

Dandelions landed on Eric's sleeve. He flicked them off one by one with his finger only to have more rain down on him. "Why'd you wait so long?"

"I was mad."

"So you threw a fit?"

Lila bristled at the word and began tugging away at the grass again. Eric was in no mood to argue. His body wouldn't be able to take it, so he spoke to her bluntly. "Soldier's don't let their emotions get the better of them."

"I'm not a soldier," she snapped.

Despite his growing urge to scold her, Eric kept a level tone. "Then what are you?"

She tucked her chin into folded arms, frowning. "I don't know anymore."

A Dauntless medic came to Eric's side before he could formulate a response. His first instinct was to bat them away, but the look in Lila's eyes told him that if she had to deal with the medics, then so did he. He cooperated for vitals but refused to extend his hospitality once the stretcher came out. The medic taking care of him was a scrawny kid with thick rimmed glasses, whose effeminate eyes made him look more like a girl than a boy. "Mr. Coulter, you've inhaled a lot of smoke, and you have a s-severe concussion."

"Sounds like you have one too," said Eric. Lila flashed him a dirty look, and he responded in kind. "As if you have any bedside manners."

In the end, Eric complied with everyone. And so the trip back to Dauntless began with him lying on a stretcher in a van.

Fucking fantastic.

AN

Shout out to Ariwolff (Again) Being able to vent to her means that I can work through whatever writer block issues I'm having.

And to those who are following my story, or have recently followed my story, thank you!

It took two months, but chapter 15 is out! WOOP WOOP.


	16. Lila

"I don't need a medic," Lila said scrambling to match Eric's impatient strides, as he ushered her to one of Dauntless' infirmaries. Waves of Dauntless flooded the hall searching for friends being carted away on stretchers with oxygen masks fastened to their heads.  
A broad hand gripped Lila's face – gently enough not to hurt, but firm enough to make her look up. "We're not biting fingers off today," Eric said, his thumb grazing the bruise on her cheek. "Got it?"  
She managed a nod. "Got it."  
A second passed, and he let her go, shoving her towards the doors. "Behave."  
"What are you doing?" She watched him head in the opposite direction. With cuts and abrasions all over his body and a leg he could hardly walk on, he seemed more in need of a medic than she did. She half expected him to crumble to pieces.  
"Finding Nolan," he said over his shoulder.  
Lila weighed the consequences of ditching the checkup, but as Eric disappeared around the corner, she decided against it. Pushing through the doors of the infirmary, she managed to startle every medic in the room as most, if not all of them, recognized her.  
None of them volunteered their services, save for one; a woman with sunken eyes and grey hair, whom Lila had never met before. Her cruel features bore an expression of indifference, as she led her over to a cot tucked away in the corner. "I'm guessing you're Lila," she said, as she pulled out her stethoscope. "The others may be frightened of you, but I'm not. Sit."  
Lila's body recoiled, as the cold chest-piece of the stethoscope slid down her back. She sucked air into her lungs and exhaled slowly, doing so a few more times until the woman said, "Enough. Let me see your hands." Grabbing a jar off the counter and a pair of tweezers from the drawer, she removed bits of glass from Lila's palms, forgoing gentleness as she applied the salve. "Looks like Eric has you pretty well trained."  
Lila stiffened. "Something like that."  
The woman laughed humorlessly, her callous smile wrinkling the corners of her antiquated face. When she'd finished with the tweezers, she handed Lila a blue hospital gown, ordering her to change behind the curtain. "There's no sense in you stalking around in bloody clothes. When you get home, wash them. Warm soap and water will get the stains out."  
Lila didn't dare object, the infirmary's chilly air wafting over her skin as she wriggled out of her torn shirt and jeans. She quickly slipped into the gown, struggling with the strings in the back. She hated asking for help, but the idea of walking around half naked horrified her, so when she opened the curtain to ask for assistance only to find that Vince had replaced the woman, she blanched.  
"Hello Lila," he said, her name rolling off his tongue like silk.  
"Where'd the lady go?"  
He waved his hand as though the medic had been an afterthought. "I didn't like her much, so I sent her off to do whatever it is her people do." He cocked his head to the side, eyes zeroing in on the hand Lila held behind her back. "Need help with that?"  
She shook her head.  
Lugging Edward through the forest must've worn Vince out because he didn't push it. "I've only come to say farewell," he said. "Once Warren's finished getting patched up, we're heading out."  
"Where are you going?"  
"Erudite."  
Eric's old faction.  
Lila twirled her gown's strings. "Thank him for me. Tell him I said goodbye." Of the two men she'd worked with today, Warren was the least insufferable.  
"He'll appreciate that," said Vince. "The man's a sucker when it comes to pretty girls who" – his head turned, as a noise from the hall caught his attention – "know how to shoot a gun."  
Before anyone had a chance to react, Eric burst through the doors knocking over a medic and their entire trey of supplies. Nolan was fast on his heels, but Eric paid him no mind as he crossed the room to Lila, seizing her by the shoulders. Before she could catch her breath, he had her pinned against the counter. He growled, his eyes livid, "Something you want to tell me?"  
Nolan cleared his throat. "The girl didn't mean any harm, Eric. "  
Eric didn't take his eyes off Lila as he said to everyone, "Out. Now."  
The medics tripped over themselves trying to leave. Nolan and Vince exchanged knowing looks, powerless to do anything else because negotiating with Eric when he was angry was suicide.  
Lila bared her teeth, her fight or flight response kicking into full gear, as she gripped the hard edge of the counter. "Back off."  
"Don't presume to order me around," Eric said, his breath hot on her face. "Now, when were you planning on telling me about" – without warning, he jabbed his thumb into her ribcage, and she hissed – "this?"  
Acting on instinct, she yanked her knee up towards his groin. He sidestepped out of the way. Hooking his elbow around her leg, he shoved her back into the counter, knocking her off balance. "What did I say about behaving yourself?"  
She spat in his face.  
A deep rumble echoed in his chest. He retreated a step, granting Lila room to breathe, and she said to him, her back ramrod straight, "I'm not your toy. You don't get to push me around."  
Eric's blue eyes were the color of frosted sapphires. "Do you think I enjoy fighting with you? Do you think I derive pleasure from hurting you? Because I don't. But pain, Lila, seems to be the only thing you ever listen to."  
Lila spoke through gritted teeth. "As if you could hurt me."  
And just like that, Eric's hand shot out – grabbed her arm. He yanked her away from the counter and began hauling her towards the doors. She squirmed, but he held fast, growling in her ear, "The only thing standing between you and a prison cell is me." He dragged her out of the infirmary, past the medics who were standing outside eavesdropping, and into an adjoining hallway.  
"I gave you free reign of this place, let you carry a gun, permitted you to work in the field with the rest of my men, and you have the nerve to lie to me?"  
"I didn't lie to you."  
"That's bullshit, and you know it," Eric seethed, his grip tightening. "If I'd known you were seriously injured, I never would've requested you for the mission. You know the rules, and you decided to break them."  
"Where are you taking me?" Panic swelled in Lila's chest at the thought of being locked away. They whipped around another corner, and her bare feet slipped on the ground. A cold draft sent goosebumps down her exposed spine. "Eric?"  
His voice was like ice – void of any sense of kindness and warmth - and his words were taunting.  
"It's a surprise."


	17. Lila

A brush of frigid air kissed her shoulders – revived her spirit long enough to yank herself out of Eric's grasp.

His head whipped toward her.

She swallowed hard, every fiber of her being focused on him as he backed her up against the wall.

"I should bend you over my knee right here." There was an edge to his voice, his hands on either side of her, biceps caging her – goading her.

Gone was the adrenaline rush that had her spitting in his face – now came a fury sparked deep inside her chest.

A muscle pulsed in Eric's jaw as if he sensed it too.

His gaze fell to where her hospital gown slipped off her shoulder. "We agreed you wouldn't lie to me." He hooked his thumb under the fabric and tugged on it. "I can't trust you when you keep secrets."

Lila stared at him coldly. "I don't care if you trust me."

"Well like I said, the only thing standing between you and a prison cell is me." There was that threat again. "Don't make me a fool for vouching for you."

He pushed himself off the wall and extended his hand.

Not a request. A command.

"I can walk on my own," Lila said.

"Then walk."

A silence fell between them as they marched down the hall. Lila swore under her breath, as the strings of her gown became entangled between her legs.

She glared at the back of Eric's head. Explosive outbursts were unique to him, and it shouldn't have shocked her – shouldn't have made her want to gouge his eyes out. She bit the inside of her cheek until it bled, suppressing the urge to lash out.

"In here," he said opening a door on their left.

They passed the threshold and entered a dim lit room. Computer monitors blinked at them, humming an eerie melody while places Lila didn't think existed illuminated the screens mounted on the wall.

"This is the control room."

Eric leaned against a desk smothered in computer equipment, his arms folded over the expanse of his chest. Lila waited for an explanation, but he sat there silently. A clock ticked on the wall. Seconds turned into minutes.

She finally snapped, "And?"

He pursed his lips into a fine line and said, "Convincing the others to let you roam free is challenging enough without you breaking protocols. So until you can abide by our rules, consider yourself suspended."

His words felt like a slap in the face.

"Since I can't have you traipsing through Dauntless doing whatever you want, you'll work in here," he continued. "Jason and Carter could use an extra hand with security, and I'm sure they won't mind sharing their hours with you. You'll get points like everyone else, so consider this a job you get paid for."

Lila bunched her hospital gown into a fist, frustrated and confused all at once. She glanced around the room. It wasn't a prison cell, but it felt like a cage, being what she was. The City had turned her into a weapon – a girl without thoughts or feelings and the Factionless locked her away because of it.

And she blinked – blinked as she realized…

She glared at her reflection in one of the screens, at the room – at Eric. The glow of the monitors sharpened his features, and she growled, "You are no better than them."

A studded brow lifted. Slowly. "I beg your pardon?"

"I wasn't ordered to search for you in Amity, but I did because the thought of you dying frightens me. And here you are punishing me. I could lay my life down at your feet, and you would still find fault with me, just as they did." She clenched her fists. "You are all the same. How much of myself must I give for you to be satisfied?"

"Enough," Eric said. He stalked to the door, jerking it open with unnecessary force. "Go home. Your first shift starts tomorrow."

"Dauntless is not my home."

Lila could've sworn a look of hurt flashed in Eric's eyes before she turned away, her feet hitting the cold tiles of the hallway.

* * *

 

"Told you fieldwork with an injury was against protocols."

Lila almost made it to her apartment when Vince came out of nowhere. He leaned on the railing by her door baring his perfectly white teeth. She didn't miss the predatory angling of his head, the way his green eyes zeroed in on her.

"I take it things with Eric didn't go so well."

"It's none of your business," Lila said pulling her gown taut behind her. "Weren't you leaving?" She heard the bite in her voice and knew her control was slipping. Eric had left her feeling drained and something else she couldn't name – something warped by panic and rage.

"Warren is taking his sweet time with a pretty nurse, so I have all the time in the world. I have a feeling I'll be dragged into a meeting if I stay much longer."

"Then lea" – Lila paused, thinking – "how did you know where I lived?"

"I didn't. Not until you waltzed through." He snorted. "I have better things to do with my time than stalk you."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Taking a walk." His gaze flickered to the empty hall. "I've been away for so long I've forgotten where everything is. Like the cafeteria for instance."

"It's downstairs," Lila said dryly.

His eyes drifted back to her face. "Care to join me?"

The thought of eating made Lila's stomach rumble, but she needed time to be alone. Needed quiet. "I have food in the fridge."

The corners of Vince's lips curled, and she knew he detected her lie. He cocked his head to the side – his golden curls shifting with the movement. "What an interesting little thing you are."

Lila bristled at his condescending tone. She retreated to her apartment without another word and slammed the door.

* * *

 

She spent an hour in the shower, waiting for the water to run cold before stepping out.

Shielding herself from the apartment's frigid air, she pulled a sweater over her head and slipped into a pair of wool leggings. She glanced at herself in the mirror, rubbed the tiredness out of her eyes, and picked up her phone.

_Sure you're okay?_

She fumbled with the buttons. _I'm fine._

 _Have lunch with me,_ Christina wrote. _It'll make up for missing girl's night._

Lila never replied.

She scowled at her bandaged hands, at herself, and screamed as her palms smashed into the vanity. Her reflection glared back, grey eyes livid with icy rage. But she blinked, and the feeling was gone. Lifting her head, she raked her fingers through her unbound, freshly washed hair and thought of Hugh.

He had left her in a foreign place, sold her to a man driven insane by thoughts of war, but if he appeared on her doorstep, she'd wrap her arms around his neck and never let go.

Maybe that made her pathetic. Desperate. She wasn't a child anymore. Maybe she needed to grow up and move on.

Putting on a pair of black ballet flats, she grabbed her keys from the table and left the apartment. It took her about ten minutes to reach the cafeteria - another ten to find Christina, who'd arranged enough food on the table for a small militia.

Lila stuck a forkful of turkey into her mouth, grabbed a glass of whatever and drained its contents before sitting down. Her stomach cramped, so she popped a fistful of grapes onto her tongue and scooped a heaping of mashed potatoes onto an empty plate – then another.

She chewed without tasting. "Where's Will?"

"In Amity. He was sent down there this morning. From what I heard, Dauntless is being blamed for the shit that happened in the forest."

"What kind of... shit?"

Christina snorted. "Literally everything. Amity's all about love and forgiveness, but damn if they don't know how to hold a grudge." She paused. "Eric really suspended you?"

"Yes."

"Asshole." She picked at her salad. "Next time don't save him." She brought her fork up to her mouth, a wicked smile playing faintly on her lips. "Hurl him into the chasm if you get the chance."

Lila dug deep inside herself to find her voice, as a familiar numbness washed over her. "I considered it."

"Throwing him in the chasm?"

"No," she breathed. She took some butter – spread it on a slice of bread. "Letting him die."

A plate clattered to the floor, and someone cursed.

Christina rested an elbow on the table, her eyes darting between different people in the room. "He's a bad guy, Lila. I hope you know that."

Lila frowned, and the bread melted on her tongue.

"Yeah."


	18. Lila

She took extra care dressing the next morning, having endured a fitful night of sleep and a late-night briefing with Eric who went to extreme measures to make the ordeal unpleasant. He, apparently, decided he wished to wait until they settled their disagreement before determining the length of her suspension. He'd crooned about wanting to reach a compromise, but one look at him had told her that he sought her admission of guilt. He'd stripped her of her right to contend in the arena, not because of her injury, but because his thirst for control took precedence over any other consideration.

It made little difference to her – to her plans.

Plans she muddled over the next day on her way to the control room, her hands shoved deep into her pockets to protect them from the morning air.

If Eric wanted her to be obedient, docile, and listless, so be it. She would grant him his wishes but deny him the gratification that came with her compliance by taking a vow of silence whenever his temper reared its ugly head.

Let him try to control her voice – or the thoughts she kept private. She would forge the silence into a weapon – a shield – and insult him with indifference until he had no other choice but to bend to her demands, her temper – _her spirit._

She shook those thoughts aside before they overwhelmed her and tapped the door to the control room. The humming of the monitors spilled into the hall a heartbeat later.

The security guard who answered the door looked about her age, maybe a little older. A silver headset sat atop his bright, azure hair, the chord vanishing beneath the puffy fabric of his coat. His dark eyes were a peculiar shade of violet. They squinted in the light.

"You Lila?"

His voice didn't match his features. It was clear, orotund, and serious like that of an owlish man who knew more than he appeared.

Lila nodded curtly, and he let her in. As she expected, the screens on the wall flickered with the shadows of strange places. Bits of food flecked the desk. A blue mug sat by the computer keyboard and the control panel, but besides that nothing in the room had changed.

The guard kept his distance. Fishing the cord out of his sleeve, he appeared nervous and reluctant to talk, his oversized coat like a smear in the darkness. At second glance, Lila realized he wasn't nervous at all. His eyes followed her every movement, not out of fear, but out of a morbid sense of curiosity.

"I'm Carter." His headset slid down around his neck, and his fists went straight to his pockets. He shifted on his feet, and she noticed he mirrored her stance exactly. "You working here from now on?"

She clarified, "Only for a little while." 'From now on' sounded like an eternity, and the thought of being stuck behind a desk for that long horrified her beyond comprehension.

Carter acknowledged her answer with a faint smirk that suggested he didn't believe her, then looked at the monitors and the screen. "The monitors show everything in Dauntless, and the screens on the wall show sections of the city like the fence and the hub. If you see someone you don't recognize, notify one of the leaders." He made a vague gesture with his hand. "Other than that just keep your eyes on the feed and try to stay awake. The rest is self-explanatory." His gaze shifted to the desk and the rolling chair.

Correction – the only chair.

"Take it," he said. "I'll grab a stool from the cafeteria."

He left without another word.

Lila skimmed her fingertips over the edge of the keyboard and settled into the chair for a long wait. She fidgeted until she felt comfortable and stared at the monitors while uniformed men and women – all of whom she didn't recognize – paraded up and down the halls.

Time crawled by the next few hours.

Other than the occasional bathroom break, Lila kept to her chair and watched as more and more people filed into the hall to begin their workday, some more awake and lively than others.

Carter hadn't spoken a word to her since he returned and instead busied himself with his phone. He hunched his back and tucked his head into the collar of his coat like a turtle into a shell, his eyes occasionally flickering to the screens or the monitors.

Sleep tugged at Lila's eyes. She stood up, rolling her shoulders forward and cracking her neck in an attempt to keep her blood flowing. Her body groaned. Her butt felt sore, and her foot prickled with the sensation of pins and needles as though Eric had bred this new species of torture just for her.

She sighed and dropped into a split, flattening her chest as her hands reached forward and grappled the carpeted floor. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, ignoring the pain in her abdomen that rippled through her with each breath.

Carter took no notice of her. Glued to the device in his hand, he looked like a gargoyle hunched over plotting a wicked scheme. She studied the silver headset he wore; the cord didn't attach to his phone and left her guessing what purpose it served. She might've asked him, but something on one of the monitors caught her eye.

Or someone to be exact.

A man with poor posture and wild crimson hair sat stiffly in a wheelchair while a medic carted him down a dark hall. Without audio, she couldn't hear his voice, but something about his straggly appearance struck her as familiar. A thin film of static obscured his face. He could've been any member of Dauntless injured after a botched mission, but still…

The picture changed, and he vanished.

* * *

 

When her shift ended at noon, she headed straight to the cafeteria and packed her trey with an assortment of foods: turkey, chicken, steak, bread, broccoli, water, grape juice, fries, and a teensy helping of chocolate and vanilla pudding.

She dove into her meal like it was her last. Working in the control room had made her hungry, and her unease about the man on the monitor was too vague as yet to deter her appetite.

"You eat like an overweight middle-aged man," Christina told her.

Picking at his teeth with a fork, Will said, "I don't even eat like that." In front of him sat a half-eaten plate of chicken and a side of mashed potatoes and gravy. If all men ate like him, they'd be misshapen and meager, but Lila didn't say as much as she gnawed off another bite of her turkey leg, her teeth sinking into bone and cartilage.

Christina scooted closer to him with a heavy sigh, as he wrapped his arm around her. He kissed her temple, then her cheek and whispered, "I love you."

"Love you too."

Lila downed her grape juice and wiped her mouth with the back of her arm, not caring that they were staring as she inhaled her fries. She breathed through her nose, chewed, swallowed, and out of politeness asked Will, "Do you have to go back to Amity today?"

The couple answered 'yes' in unison.

According to Christina, Dauntless was in charge of recovering the dead bodies in the forest since Amity workers couldn't stomach doing it themselves. They needed to make sure nothing from the shootout remained, including the Factionless' guns which they would send to Erudite for data analysis – whatever that meant - and storage.

"The whole process makes me want to rip my hair out," Will said. "Or gauge out my eyes - one of the two."

Christina groaned, "I wish I could come with you."

"You'd hate it."

"Yeah, I know."

Lila ate the rest of her meal in relative silence. The steak was thick and drenched in gravy, and she savored each bite. It took a great deal of strength to refrain herself from licking the plate clean. As soon as she finished her food, she found herself gazing at the leftover chicken on Will's trey.

Noticing her stealthy glance, he grinned and nudged his trey toward her. "Better hope your eyes aren't bigger than your stomach."

She mumbled through her first bite, "They're not."

"It's an expression," Christina said.

Of course, it was. 

After lunch, Lila tried not to think about the man on the monitor, but curiosity got the better of her, and her feet carried her into Nolan's office. Considering his position as a lead medic, she thought he might be able to answer some of her questions.

As she strode into the room, his head jerked up. "Lila?" He fumbled with the papers on his desk, shoving files and envelopes back into the drawers, picking up pens, rolling up what looked to be a used syringe, as he attempted to clear off the surface.

"Am I interrupting you?"

"No, no, no, of course not." He stood with an armful of empty Styrofoam cups redolent of coffee and tossed them into the nearest trash bin. "I've actually been meaning to talk to you." He looked flustered, almost guilty as he rubbed his neck.

He proceeded to apologize for ten long minutes for Eric's outburst the previous day, detailing how he'd caused yesterday's debacle by informing the leader of Lila's injury from the arena. He'd realized his mistake once Eric had stormed off; at which point he couldn't rectify the situation. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry." His gaze dropped to the floor as if he expected Lila to spill out some awful truth.

She said, "Don't be."

A heavy sigh escaped him, and he raked a hand through his disheveled ginger hair. His eyes remained dark, and his voice rang flat. "Since you didn't come here to exact your revenge, why are you here?"

Lila couldn't tell whether his words were meant to be a joke. "I saw a redhead today." He opened his mouth, and she clarified, "A different redhead."

"And?"

"I thought I recognized him." Squinting at Nolan in mock scrutiny, she angled her head to the side and watched as he curiously followed her movements. Swallowing her nerves, she said, "He may have been more handsome than you."

Finally, a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. "You certainly didn't get a good enough look at him."

"I think I did."

Nolan chuckled, a warm and welcome sound in the quiet of his office. "Instead of coming down here to beat me up, you came down here to mortally wound my pride?"

"I came down here to ask you about something I saw, but you were too busy sulking."

"Sulking?"

"According to Hugh, it's what men do best."

"He and I will have to agree to disagree," he said, stepping out from behind his desk to come around and lean against the front of it. He folded his arms much like Eric often did, though he didn't look nearly as choleric. "What about this handsome stranger peaked your interest?"

Lila recalled the man in the wheelchair with wild crimson hair. There had been an unruliness about him that reminded her of someone from a time long past – a time she longed to forget. "He looked feral. But familiar. Like I knew him from somewhere."

A shadow crossed Nolan's face, but he shook his head, and light returned. "Whoever it was, however handsome or feral, he's probably just a low-level soldier."

She added, "He sat in a wheelchair. He was being pushed around by another medic."

"An injured low-level soldier then," he said pushing off from his desk and straightening himself, his eyes darting to the open door as a group of men strode by. "A lot of injured men came in the other day. You probably ran into one of them."

"I saw him on the monitor in the control room."

"Then he could've been anyone."

Lila harassed him further, all but washed with the feeling that he was withholding information. "How many redheads are there in Dauntless?"

He scoffed, eyes twinkling. "Would you like me to check the tally marks I hide under my desk?"

She rolled her eyes and stormed out of his office, fully intent on beating him up if ever given another chance.

* * *

AN

Did you guys enjoy the slightly longer chapter? If so, let me know, and I'll strive to write longer ones.


	19. Eric

Eric found himself sprawled on an unfamiliar bed, disoriented until he realized he was in Erudite—in Naomi Weston's apartment. They lay together amidst tangled sheets and rumpled quilts, half asleep, drunk on last night's liquor. In his stupor, he told her about his mission in Amity, where the forest fire raged, and how it reached from the border to the fields. He described how Johanna's mood waxed, and what promises he made to alleviate her anger, and what promises he had already broken. He listed them all. Like a moth to a flame, she made him want to spill his secrets. A flush spread across those gorgeous breasts of hers as he peeled back the sheets to uncover her nakedness. She tipped her head back as his teeth grazed the hollow of her throat, a quick pulse hammering beneath his tongue. More, more, more, his body sang. She was smooth as windless water, drawing him out, pleasuring him until he was sated; and there was that fleeting moment of feeling whole again.

When he dressed she said, "And what of that young city girl? How is she?"

 _Unforgiving,_ he almost said, _trying to outrun the fact that she cannot despise me forever, and pointedly ignoring the fact that she needs my protection. That everyone and their mother sees her as an unnecessary liability, but she's too stubborn to admit it._

So he said, "Working."

"Can I meet her sometime?"

A bitter laugh, and then, "I don't think so."

He rode the train back to Dauntless. Naomi had given him a flash drive with a list of names—people with over-the-wall clearance and possible access to The City. She wasn't trying to be helpful. It was only her nature to vaunt her knowledge and amuse herself with what others did not know. She was no lover, scarcely even a friend. Within her Prussian blue eyes, he had seen her thoughts swirling as if they were smoke under glass. She was a thousand times cleverer, and on such terms she pleased herself herself. He hid the file in his desk, then called for a meeting in his office. Edward, who was the first to show, looked pitiful. His arm was in a cast, and his cast was in a sling. He slumped in the chair in front of the desk and claimed, "Naomi called me as soon as you left and went to great lengths to make me uncomfortable."

"Your sister hasn't changed."

He scoffed. "Clearly."

When Four arrived, he sat in the chair by the door. Eric waited for him to speak some trivial thing, but his usual sharp focus seemed elsewhere. He fixed his eyes on a point on the wall and made little to no effort feigning interest in anyone. A few heartbeats later. "Tris had another episode. Last night she claimed people were hunting her, and by morning she had killed them."

Edward drawled, "Woman did always have a flair for the dramatic."

The faintest stain of guilt washed over Eric like water over sand. He chose not to say anything. He reclined in his chair and drank from an old ceramic cup, regretting not brewing more coffee as fatigue settled deep into bones. The morning had only begun, and he already imagined himself drifting to sleep at his desk. He was hardly equipped to handle the day. Hardly equipped to handle Lila, who appeared in the doorway like a pillar of tempered steel wearing only a yellow sundress, freshly washed hair cut into dark ringlets at her waist, and a cold, flat look. Those silver eyes of hers swept over him as if he were only another thing in the room, a table, a chair.

"Is it my off, or have you revoked those privileges as well?" She spoke with rather impressive flatness—resolve written so plainly on her face that anyone else would've had the decency to look unnerved.

He forced himself to meet her eyes. She had hardly spoken to him over the last two weeks. When she did, her tongue was sharp—her gaze sharper. The thought of testing her resolve, of sampling that rage bubbling beneath the surface of her skin thrilled him more than he cared to admit, and it took a decade's worth of training to keep himself poised there behind the barricade of his desk instead of barreling towards her. He told her plainly, "You can have your day off once this meeting is over."

Edward barked a laugh. No sooner did he turn his face than Lila recoiled a step—as if vermin had sprung forth from his gaping maw. If he noticed the shift in her body, he didn't comment on it—and his cyclopean gaze may or may not have lingered on the neckline of her dress a heartbeat too long. A blink was the only sign of her irritation, save for the delicate flare of her nostrils. She crossed the room in smooth, calculated steps until she stood against the wood paneling, her hard expression softening a fraction upon seeing Four. It left Eric to muse over what his use-to-be rival had done to get into her good graces.

If she had good graces.

"As you all know," Eric began, "our last mission did not go as planned. One of my informants leaked information to the factionless, and until I figure out who betrayed me, we have to stay on guard. They may only be an idle threat now, but based on the guns we found at the warehouse, that could easily change. Our goal is still the same. We track down their supplier and figure out what their motives are."

Edward said, "It's too bad you paired the two most trigger-happy people together last time and sent them merely on their way without leashes. You know, we might've had the supplier by now if not for them. You should've seen the mess they left back in Amity—bodies fucking everywhere. We found a boy among them too. Poor kid couldn't have been more than sixteen years old—butchered by some kind of animal."

Lila's eyes flicked over him in a sweep that would've rendered a lesser man impotent. "This animal can do far worse."

Eric flinched at the sincerity of words, the utter stillness with which she stood. A trained killer poised to strike without the slightest hesitation. He made his voice as careless as he could. "It is done, Edward. Now we move forward."

"When do we tell the other factions about what we know?" Four maintained an air of calm watchfulness, as always—a keen listener with a philosopher's eye. "The longer we keep this knowledge to ourselves, the more likely we are to make enemies out of our allies."

Edward snorted. "So better to cause mass hysteria by telling everyone the factionless plan to revolt?"

"It's better to be honest."

"We're not lying to anyone."

"Candor won't see it that way."

"No one gives a fuck about Candor."

"As Dauntless' emissary," Four said flatly, "you probably should."

Eric leaned back, contemplative. Dauntless had the upper hand knowing the factionless planned to rebel, that an outside party was supplying them with weapons, and that many were prepared to sacrifice themselves for 'the greater good.' That many deemed it a necessary cause. Candor and Erudite would no doubt be angered, possibly going so far as to being offended, to discover such information had not been privy to them. The truth might be wise, however—gaps in his knowledge remained.

So he merely said, "This information is our own."

Lila's mouth snapped open. "And yet you punish me for concealing things from you? I never took you for a hypocrite, but you are no better than those lowborn—

A snarl ripped from his throat, "Do _not_ finish that sentence."

Something in those silver eyes flashed, but she turned away before he could decipher it. Four must have felt the coiling tension, for he spoke. "So long as we are not endangering anyone, we can keep our secrets. However risky, however stupid I think it is, the others will found out soon enough on their own anyway. Just don't leave me to deal with the aftermath."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Poor abnegation baby."

"Says the man who cried over a twisted ankle."

"I was hit with a grenade, jackass."

"Not hard enough."

With Lila pointedly preoccupied with an invisible piece of lint on her sundress, Eric braced his elbows on the desk and addressed them both. "As of right now the plan is simple; we deal with any and all obstacles as they come and track down whoever's dealing weapons to the factionless. I want to know who, what, where, when, and why. If we can intercept these dealings, we might be able to prevent this rebellion from gaining its momentum."

Four trained his philosopher's eye on him. "How do you suppose we find this supplier? Half my men are still recovering from their burns; the other half have smoke in their lungs. They'll need at least two more weeks to recuperate before they're ready to be sent out into the field again."

"They get one," was Eric's only response.

On his desk, he laid a blueprint of the various dwellings and edifices within the city. Every high-rise, every tower, pretty much all of Chicago's skyline. He fingered the paper between his thumb and forefinger, frowning at the scribbled blue markings and the faint coffee stains that marred it. His Second in command leaned forward, close enough that he could examine the blueprint with his amber eye—his glass eye translucent like a fluorescent bulb. He grunted after a long minute. "Whatever you're plotting better not involve parachuting from skyscrapers."

Four chuckled. "Afraid of heights?"

"Blame it on my lack of depth perception."

"There will be no parachutes," Eric said, though the thought of hurling any number of his men off a six-hundred-meter drop amused him more than he cared to admit. No, his plan involved something a bit more discreet than that. He eyed Lila as she perused the bookcase tucked away in the corner. Having grown distracted, she traced her fingers over the oak shelves, the random oddities, and then the spines of the books themselves with a sincere, almost childlike look of curiosity on her face. It vanished like rain off the pavement as soon as he told her, "I need a marksman's eye."

She did not bother with a response.

"Just because I suspended you," Eric said, "does not mean I have no use for you."

Her head snapped up. Oh, that had hit its mark. "I am not some lapdog one has _use_ for."

Four and Edward exchanged glances, some silent language they'd learned during their initial training days passing between them. Eric ordered them both out of the room without so much as a blink, his temper flaring like fire on dry wood. It shouldn't have, he knew it. But in that moment, all he could think about was the white-hot blaze of indignation standing before him. Of the rage, the unfettered fury, just below the surface. He braced his feet on the ground, met those silver eyes once more and said, "Had I known you were going to be this difficult, I would have never invited you here."

"I wish you hadn't," Lila said with lethal cold. "It's my day off, and I have every right to enjoy it."

"I told you. You can have your day off once this is over."

"And what is this, exactly?"

Eric gestured to the blueprint—to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit down, and I'll show you."

* * *

AN

Hey, I've been thinking about editing my older chapters. 

It pains to me to read them. It pains me to read anything I've written that's over ten minutes old. 

So I'll be raking through each chapter, starting with chapter 1.

Stay tuned.

 


	20. Message to readers

Please don’t kill me. From now on, I will only be updating this story on Fanfiction.net. If you would like to see the status on my updates/ editing please go to Fanfiction.net. Same username, same story! Make sure to follow so you get updates!


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